


Catra and the Sword

by SevenHundredBees



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Adora Remains with the Horde (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Catra is She-Ra, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Alternate Universe - Episode, Angst, Catra is Bad at Feelings (She-Ra), Gen, Horde Adora (She-Ra), POV Catra (She-Ra), Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 80,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenHundredBees/pseuds/SevenHundredBees
Summary: Originally posted as "Cat-Ra Fic #37".The sword was never meant for her - but when her friend Adora is in danger, Catra uses it to become an unstoppable warrior. She soon begins to question her life in the evil Horde, but Adora swears to bring her back, no matter the cost. Based on the first season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power.Updates every four weeks.
Relationships: Adora & Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Scorpia (She-Ra), Adora & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Angella & Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow & Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Mermista (She-Ra), Catra & Perfuma (She-Ra), Catra & Razz (She-Ra), Catra & Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 101





	1. The Sword, Part 1

_“All squadrons, report to training area immediately for evaluation.”_

“Finally,” Catra muttered, lazily examining her claws. It felt like she’d been waiting for an eternity – though in truth, it had been closer to ten minutes. She wondered idly about the briefing she was missing out on. They tended to be quick, but with a little dash of propaganda. Adora ate that stuff up.

Catra glanced around the enormous training room. She was perched near the top of a tall metal structure, which was shaped into the crude approximation of a tree. There were dozens more like it, and many of their branches were occupied by spherical, spider-like robots, their elevated perches providing both cover and vantage. Far below, glowing green lines split the ground into hexagons – some of those hexes, Catra knew, were pressure-sensitive traps. The room was built to provide intensely challenging simulations; completing them required skill and grit.

Unless you cheated.

Catra smirked as a massive door slid open, and four cadets in training gear emerged onto the floor below. Some of the bots among the trees were already turning to face them – in seconds, the room erupted into a hail of simulated laser fire, and the cadets scrambled for cover.

But suddenly, one of the bots burst into flames. Catra searched for its attacker, and sure enough, she found a slender blonde girl with a ponytail: Adora.

“Come on, this way!” Adora called as she led her squad under Catra’s perch. Catra growled slightly as they ran past.

_Can’t let them get too much distance._

She leaped after them, hopping gracefully from branch to branch as one of the cadets – a twiggy blond boy – went down to a laser bolt. The rest of the squad took a moment to berate him before scattering under another burst of fire. But they stayed coordinated, and soon, they had reached the large clearing on the far side of the room.

Adora triggered a few of the trap hexes, but she stepped aside as they turned red and fell away, revealing deep pits. Then, from a larger pit at the center of the clearing, a bot the size of a tank emerged. Extending its long legs, it loomed over the cadets for a few tense seconds.

It began firing wildly. For a moment, Adora didn’t react, and Catra thought she might have locked up. But then she drew her extendable staff and leaped into action, dodging blasts before pole vaulting on top of the machine.

_Not bad._

Catra hopped down to the floor, stepping gingerly over a few of the triggered pit traps. She watched as Adora took out the machine’s cameras, stabbed her weapon into its hull, and jumped away, tumbling to the ground as an explosion ripped apart the top section of the bot. The rest of it collapsed, sinking halfway into the pit below it before getting stuck.

Catra sauntered past Adora, towards the smoldering wreck. She gave one of its legs a gentle kick; that was enough to send it falling into the abyss. Then she turned to face Adora, who was still picking herself off the floor…specifically, a section of floor that had just turned red. With a smirk, Catra pointed at the ground.

Adora had just enough time to realize it. Then a buzzer sounded, and the hex fell out from under her.

“Whaaah!”

Adora vanished, but a split-second later, Catra heard the _clang_ of metal against metal. She laid down casually at the edge of the pit, peering down. Adora had jammed the ends of her staff into the sides of the chasm, and she was dangling from the weapon, an annoyed look on her face. It made Catra’s smirk all the wider.

“Hey Adora,” she said. “How’s it hanging?”

“Catra. Did you really show up late and let us do all the hard parts? That is low, even for you.”

“Aww. You _know_ nothing’s too low for me.” She giggled, and then offered her hand. “Now come on! You look stupid hanging down there.”

Adora huffed, but she couldn’t hide her smile as Catra pulled her up.

_“Training exercise successfully completed.”_

When they got to the locker room, they found the rest of their teammates already changed and heading out. The burly lizard-man, Rogelio, gave Adora an implacable nod as he passed by. Kyle, the cadet who had gone down, gave Adora a quick wave, and then went back to complaining about the bots. But Lonnie, a stout girl with brown hair, disregarded Adora entirely – instead, she glared at Catra.

Catra hissed at Lonnie as she left, earning a disapproving look from her friend.

“They’re our teammates,” Adora chided as she removed her electronic vest and hung it on a rack. “You could at least try to be nice.”

“Hey, she’s the one who’s jealous,” Catra answered nonchalantly. “It’s not my fault she wasn’t smart enough to skip out on training.”

Catra thought back to her little prank with the pit, and it instantly brought a smile to her face. She slipped next to Adora, laughing gleefully.

“You should’ve seen your face!” she exclaimed. “You were like ‘Ahhhh, noooo! Betrayal!’” She collapsed dramatically to the floor; Adora gave her a side-eyed glance as she slipped on her red jacket.

“Ugh, come on Catra. We’re senior cadets now! I can’t believe you’re still pulling such childish, immature–” She gasped, and pointed to the corner of the room. “Is that a mouse?!”

“What?! Where?!” Catra leaped to her feet, hair and ears standing straight up, ready to pounce.

Adora keeled over laughing. Catra’s ears sank, and her expression turned to a scowl.

“Are you _ever_ going to not fall for that?” Adora asked, smiling.

“I don’t know, are you ever going to _let it go_? That was one time.” Catra crossed her arms in annoyance.

“I know,” Adora replied, still chuckling. “But for some reason, it’s – it’s always funny.”

Catra couldn’t stay mad at her idiot friend. So she gave a reluctant half-smile and leaned back against the lockers, about to suggest they head for the mess hall. But before she could, a familiar, sickly voice came from the far side of the room.

“Adora.”

Adora leaped to attention, but Catra only glared as Shadow Weaver approached. She was a tall, slight figure, her dark hair fluttering under some false wind, a red and black mask hiding all her features except for glowing white eyes. She wore a plum-colored dress, the ends of which curled upwards, dancing unnaturally around her. Her feet didn’t touch the ground.

Adora saluted. “Shadow Weaver.”

Reluctantly, Catra pushed off from the lockers, standing next to her friend. She planted a hand on her hip, doing her best to look casual.

“You have done well,” Shadow Weaver told Adora. “You’ve completed your training course in record time.”

“Uh, well that wasn’t just me, you know.” She wrapped her arm around Catra, who fought the urge to squirm away. “Catra did too!”

“Is that so? I seem to recall her failing to report in with her team, only to swoop in and take credit after _you_ had completed the course.”

Catra’s ears fell.

_She was watching…?_

“Catra…report to your barracks. We will discuss this shortly. Adora, walk with me.”

Shadow Weaver turned and glided through the door. Adora stepped after her, but then turned hesitantly towards Catra, as if waiting for permission.

Catra shrugged glumly.

“Adora!” Shadow Weaver called out.

The blonde ran off, leaving Catra alone.

The barracks were empty – nothing but Catra and rows of plain double bunks. She sat on Adora’s bed, fidgeting, thinking about what to say. Maybe she ought to apologize? The thought of it made her stomach churn, but if she could spit out the words, maybe Shadow Weaver would take it easy on her.

Maybe.

She glanced over to one end of the room, gazing at the wall. Then she turned back, and found Shadow Weaver looming over her, arms crossed, eyes narrowed behind her mask. Catra jumped, clambering backwards with a hiss.

“Sh-Shadow Weaver!”

“Catra.”

Catra took a moment to get her breathing under control. “Shadow Weaver, I’m… _sorry_ about earlier.”

“You’re sorry you were caught,” the sorceress replied dismissively. “But this isn’t about you. No…I think it’s time we had a little chat about _Adora_.”

It was Catra’s turn to narrow her eyes. “Yeah? What about her?”

“Your actions nearly earned her a considerable time penalty.”

“What, ‘cause she fell into a pit?” Catra rolled her eyes and put on her best smirk. “It’s not _my_ fault if Adora isn’t the brightest–”

“You were a distraction,” Shadow Weaver hissed. “As usual. I don’t know what she sees in you – you’ve done nothing but hold her back.”

Catra bristled. “I am _not_ holding her back! Honestly, she’s the one holding _me_ –”

Shadow Weaver interrupted her with a laugh, a piercing, cruel sound that echoed through the room. Catra shrank away.

“Oh, Catra…you are so very amusing! But allow me to end your delusions. By order of Lord Hordak, Adora has been promoted…to Force Captain.”

“Force Captain?!”

“She’ll be leading the attack on Thaymor tomorrow.”

A lot of emotions surfaced at once. Pride…jealousy…but most of all, excitement. She could handle taking orders from Adora if it meant finally getting out of the Fright Zone.

But Shadow Weaver was still standing there in silence, as if waiting for something.

“That’s…great,” Catra finally offered, trying not to sound nervous.

“Indeed. It is an excellent opportunity. Perhaps she can even find better influences among her new team.”

“New team…?”

“Oh yes. I expect she’ll be quite busy with them. Of course, I’ve taken the liberty of reassigning her to their barracks. It would be unseemly for a Force Captain to fraternize with cadets…especially ones as unmotivated as _you_.”

Catra’s eyes widened, and her ears stood straight up. Shadow Weaver was taking Adora away. “W-wait,” Catra pleaded. “I’ll shape up – I’ll do whatever you want! Just let me go with her.”

“I’ve given you many opportunities to ‘shape up’. But you have rejected all of them. And so, you have forced my hand.”

Shadow Weaver leaned in, and darkness began to enclose Catra. She backed away, until she felt the cold metal wall against her spine, and could go no further.

“Think of it as a fresh start – an opportunity for both of you. Adora will finally have an environment where she can flourish…and _you_ will be free to continue disappointing me.”

The darkness receded as she turned to leave. But then she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

“On the other hand…if, in spite of this, you _continue_ to hold Adora back…I will find a more _permanent_ solution.”

She raised her hand, and suddenly, Catra felt her entire body lock up. Red bolts of electricity arced across her skin as she struggled against Shadow Weaver’s magic. It was no use. She was paralyzed. Helpless.

“Do I make myself clear?” Shadow Weaver asked.

Catra could barely speak. “Y-yes…Shadow…Weaver…!”

Shadow Weaver glared at her a moment longer. Then she lowered her hand, and Catra collapsed forward onto the bed. There were no footsteps as the sorceress glided out of the barracks; the only sound was Catra gasping for air.

She watched the door close behind her tormentor, and counted out a few agonizing seconds. Then she let out a cry of hatred. On the verge of tears, she sank her claws into Adora’s bed – no, Adora’s _old_ bed – and tore a few long gashes into the mattress.

The door slid open again, and Catra shrieked in terror, tumbling onto the floor. But it wasn’t Shadow Weaver. It was just Lonnie.

“Catra?” her teammate asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Wh-what?! No!” Catra insisted, still crouched behind the bed.

“Uh…huh.” Lonnie began to smirk. “I guess you got chewed out for your little stunt on the course.”

“That – that’s none of your _business_ ,” Catra hissed, climbing to her feet.

“Did Shadow Weaver–”

“Leave me _alone_!” Catra shouted, her heart pounding, her eyes wide and frantic.

Lonnie recoiled from her glare, and – mercifully – didn’t say anything more. Catra took a few deep breaths. She took a moment to steady her hand before running it through her hair. Then, calmly but quickly, she walked out of the barracks.

Without thinking, she found herself slipping down side corridors and climbing up ladders. Her feet were taking her up to the balcony; the one that connected to her favorite platform. It had a great view of the Fright Zone, and more importantly, no one ever came up there…no one but her and Adora.

Adora. Shadow Weaver’s favorite. Lonnie’s favorite. _Everybody’s_ favorite. Her new team would love her, too. Catra clenched her fist, squeezing until her claws dug into her palm and drew blood. She didn’t just hate Shadow Weaver, she hated _all_ of them. Sometimes, on bad days, she even hated Adora.

Today was a bad day.

Catra had always found a little solace in the lights of the Fright Zone. The soft yellow glow from the ground-level forges…the pinpricks of distant windows and warning lights, many of them shimmering in the columns of smoke that rose up from chemical factories. Up here, all the problems from below seemed to melt away. Up here, it was just her and Adora.

Or at least, it usually was.

She waited for hours before giving up. Not that she’d been waiting for Adora, of course. She just wanted to think, and be alone. She didn’t want to see Adora. She didn’t need Adora – which was good, because obviously, Adora wasn’t coming.

But it stung when she spotted Adora in the mess hall. The newly-minted Force Captain was sitting at a table, surrounded by unfamiliar faces – her new team. She was sharing a laugh with them. There was a decent chance it was at Catra’s expense.

Catra ate in the barracks, alone.

Now it was late. Everyone else was asleep, but not her. She couldn’t sleep. All she could do was think about the empty, torn-up bunk below hers. She rolled over for the thousandth time. How had she _ever_ slept on this thin, stiff mattress?

She usually hadn’t. Most nights, she’d slept at the end of Adora’s.

With a soft growl, she threw aside the covers and flipped out of bed, landing quietly on her feet. She glanced around the dark room, and then crept over to the door and slipped outside, into the hallway beyond.

Where was she going? She wasn’t entirely sure. She just needed to get away – to be anywhere but here. Although come to think of it, she didn’t want to be back up on the platform, either. Where else could she go?

Anywhere, if she had a skiff.

She smirked, ducking nimbly behind a column as a knee-high security bot passed obliviously by. She’d always daydreamed about stealing a skiff, and she’d even tried once, when she was little. It hadn’t gone well. But she was cannier now, and from what she’d heard, the garage wasn’t as secure as it used to be.

She’d heard right. There was only one guard, a slouching soldier in body armor. Catra looked around, and found a battered-looking pipe running along the wall. She scanned up and down it until she found a clamp held in place by a pair of screws. She quietly removed one of them, and then tossed it over the guard’s head.

 _Ping! Ping!_ The guard turned towards the noise of the bouncing screw. He stared for a moment. Then, muttering a complaint under his breath, he went to investigate. Wasting no time, Catra darted over and slipped through the door, into the garage beyond.

It was a large, open room, packed with a dozen skiffs. They were flat-topped hover vehicles, slender, but large enough to carry a full squad. At the center of each was a console with a large control lever; behind that was a massive vertical fin.

Catra searched the garage until she found a key rack on one of the walls. She picked one at random, then found the skiff with the matching serial number and leaped aboard. She approached the center console, put the key in the ignition, and turned it. For a moment, nothing happened. But then she released the key, and as it snapped back into position, the engine hummed to life.

Catra stepped forward, grabbing the control lever and pushing it experimentally – she yelped as the vehicle lurched forward, accelerating towards a large automatic door. If the mechanism had been a split-second slower, her skiff’s fin would’ve crashed into it. But instead, she burst out into the dense industrial terrain of the Fright Zone with her vehicle intact.

She whooped excitedly, swinging around buildings and weaving between pillars of machinery. She hadn’t mastered the controls yet, and one mistake would mean a fiery crash; but she didn’t care. She pressed the lever further, and the skiff went even faster.

It wasn’t long before the urban terrain grew sparse, giving way to open, arid plains. Navigating was easier here. Catra drove lazily between spires of rock and enormous plateaus, the wind blowing through her hair. The smog of the Fright Zone was starting to clear – so she gazed up at the dark blue sky, and at three pale moons. She’d never seen them before…at least not like this.

They were beautiful.

She pressed on for a while, enjoying the sights, never letting off the throttle. But when she happened to glance backwards, she noticed something, almost hidden in the trail of dust kicked up by her skiff. She squinted: it was a dark silhouette, floating at the head of its own dust trail. It was keeping pace with her.

Catra narrowed her eyes as she faced forward. She was crossing into a grassy field, and at the far edge of that field was the looming shadow of a vast forest. The nearest trees were twisted and enormous, even compared to the false ones from the training room; they were so big that there was probably room to maneuver between them.

She sped across the field, planting her feet and preparing herself for the approaching tree line. She pulled back the throttle as she plunged into it, yet she was still going recklessly fast. Her heart pounded as she darted between the trunks, narrowly avoiding collision after collision. But as the seconds passed by, and she made it further and further into the forest, she grew more confident.

_I’m getting the hang of this!_

Suddenly, she felt the skiff lurch and heard a loud crack. She’d clipped a branch. She struggled with the control lever, but it was no use – smoke poured from her vehicle as it careened out of control. Her eyes widened as she spotted the massive tree looming straight ahead; she barely managed to leap from the skiff before it slammed into the trunk and exploded. She tumbled roughly onto the grassy terrain, chunks of debris raining down around her.

For a moment, Catra laid there, dazed. Then she heard the hum of an approaching engine. She tried to climb to her feet, but she was too weak. All she could do was roll onto her back and watch as the other skiff came into view, slowing gradually to a halt. She could make out the pilot now – a familiar blonde girl in a red jacket.

“Catra!” Adora cried out, leaping from the deck. She raced over, eyes wide, and crouched down to check Catra’s pulse. “Catra, can you hear me?”

Catra glared at Adora, all her pent-up emotions competing for dominance as she spotted the Force Captain’s badge on her friend’s jacket. “I’m fine,” she spat, yanking her wrist away. “I just…need a minute. Ugh. Why are you…here?”

“I, I snuck out to talk to you, but then I saw _you_ sneaking out, so I followed you, and then you stole a skiff, so then _I_ stole a skiff, and…” She paused, taking a breath. “I was really worried, Catra.”

“Why? You seemed pretty happy with your _new_ friends.”

Adora winced. “I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you sooner, but I had to do orientation stuff all day. Shadow Weaver–”

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t wanna disappoint _her_ ,” Catra replied bitterly. “You’re such a bootlicker.”

“I am not!”

Catra scoffed, looking pointedly away from her friend – and was suddenly distracted. There was an eerie blue light coming from the other side of a row of gnarled trees. Her eyes lit up.

“Uh…hey, Adora?”

“What – oh. Huh.”

“We gotta check that out.”

“What? No! We’re in the middle of the Whispering Woods, and you’re hurt. We need to get out of here before–”

Catra grabbed Adora’s shoulders and pulled herself to her feet. She was still out of breath, and she could feel some nasty bruises, but she was too enthralled by the strange light to care. She took a hesitant step towards it, wincing at the dull pain in her side.

Adora groaned, but stood up and guided Catra’s arm around her shoulder, helping her forward. “Ugh…fine. We go see the cool glowy thing, and then we leave. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They walked in silence. As they did, Catra shot Adora a glance. There was still a lot of turmoil in her head…but Adora _had_ come after her. That felt nice. And she almost giggled at the thought of her uptight, straight-laced friend stealing a skiff to do it.

But those thoughts faded into the background as the pair stepped into a clearing. There, to the left, was the source of the light: a sword planted into the ground, with a glowing blue blade and an ornate golden hilt. Thick vines wrapped around the mysterious weapon, as if drawn to it.

“Whoa,” Catra muttered.

“What do you think it is?” Adora asked.

Catra grinned. “Mine!” She shoved Adora aside and leaped over, ignoring the pain, before grabbing the sword and yanking it free from the vines. She gave it an experimental swing; though it seemed too broad to be a practical weapon, it was surprisingly light and comfortable to wield. What was it made of?

She looked up at Adora, who was walking over with an exasperated look on her face. But the closer she got, the more vacant her expression became.

“Uh…Adora?” Catra said, waving a hand in front of her friend’s face.

“Huh? Wha?”

“You spaced out.”

“Oh. Uh…sorry. I just, uh…do you…hear that?”

Catra paused, her ears twitching. “What, the birds?”

“No, there was something else. A voice. I think…someone said my name.”

Catra cocked her head. Adora hesitated for a moment, then reached a hand out for the sword – but Catra yanked it away.

“Catra?”

She stared at the blonde, concerned. “Adora, you’re being _really_ weird.” She looked down at the sword in her hands. “If this thing’s messing with your head, maybe we should get rid of it.”

“No!” Adora exclaimed. “I think it’s…important.”

She reached out again. Catra was about to swat her hand away – but then she heard a low, distant rumbling. It was coming from the opposite direction of their skiff, and it was getting closer.

Catra winced. “That’s not good.”

Adora looked towards the sound, and her eyes refocused. “Something must’ve heard you crash – come on!”

She grabbed Catra’s free hand and pulled her back towards the trees. But before they could escape the clearing, the ground began to tremble, and they heard a crash from behind them; the pair turned in time to spot a monster erupting from underground. It was shaped like a beetle, with glowing blue eyes and strange lines running across its carapace – and it was enormous, with gaping jaws that hung above Catra’s eye level.

It charged them, but Adora shoved her out of the way, hard; she barely kept her grip on the sword as she fell to the ground. She turned back in time to see her friend duck behind a tree, but the monster was undeterred. With a swipe of its massive foreleg, it brought the whole tree crashing down on top of Adora.

When the dust settled, Catra spotted her friend’s arm sticking out from under the broken trunk. She wasn’t moving.

“ADORA!” Catra screamed. As the monster turned towards her, the sword in her hand began to glow brighter. The glow became a searing flash of light – and then it faded, and everything went black.

Catra clutched her head as the world reformed. Her memories were muddled and confused. She had been with Adora in a forest. Something had happened…something bad. But she couldn’t recall any of the details.

She wasn’t in a forest anymore. She was sitting in a strange room, with a black floor and ceiling, and violet walls made out of jagged crystals. There was something familiar about the patterns running across those crystals, and the way they glowed softly – it all reminded her of something. What was it?

In front of her, a blinding light appeared; Catra yelped, covering her eyes. After a moment, the light faded to something more tolerable, and she nervously lowered her arm.

She found a strange figure standing before her, tall and violet. The figure wore simple, almost geometric robes, with a cloak covered in angular patterns. Her chest was mostly black (broken up by columns of dots and dashes), but aside from that, her skin was the same purple as her clothing. And as Catra stared, her entire body flickered.

“You are not Adora,” the woman stated calmly.

“Uh…duh,” Catra replied. Then she furrowed her brow. “Wait. You know Adora? Where is she? And…where am I?”

The woman ignored her. “Scanning.” A wide, flat beam emerged from her eyes, running quickly down Catra’s body; she hissed at it.

After a moment, the beam disappeared, and the strange figure stood completely motionless. Catra cocked her head, about to say something when the woman spoke again.

“Unexpected.”

She flickered.

“Greetings. My name is Light Hope. I have been waiting a long time for someone to forge a connection with the sword.”

“The sword…?” Catra muttered.

An image appeared in front of her – it was the sword she’d found in the Whispering Woods.

“It has chosen you,” Light Hope explained. “What is your name?”

“Uh…Catra?”

“Etheria has need of you, Catra. Will you answer its call? Will you–”

“Etheria?” Catra interrupted. “Why would I care about…”

She paused. More of her memories were returning. She remembered the beetle monster. Adora’s shove. The tree. Her eyes widened.

“Hey…hey, you need to send me back! Adora’s in trouble!”

“If you wish to save her, you must fight for the honor of Grayskull.”

“The _what_?”

The room was starting to spin.

“Remember, Catra. For the honor…”

The world faded away, and the voice went with it. Catra was once again lost in darkness.

As she opened her eyes, she heard a furious shriek from the beetle monster. The world was still hazy and distant, but she struggled onto her knees, rubbing furiously at her eyes. She looked up – then gasped as the monster stabbed one of its sharp legs into a familiar-looking fallen tree.

_Adora!_

“Hey!” Catra yelled. “Hey, moron! Over here!”

It turned to face her, letting out another high-pitched cry. Then it began to charge.

_Oh. This wasn’t a great plan._

She backed away, for all the good that would do – but as she did, her hand brushed against the sword. She fumbled for it, picking it up after a couple attempts, and waving it wildly in front of her. The approaching monster was undeterred.

But as she held the sword, visions flashed in front of her eyes. She clutched at her head, struggling to focus on the approaching monster, but it was futile. The monster was gone. Instead, she saw the planet and its moons. Then a cliffside palace. A ball of fire crashing to the ground. A tall structure hidden in the woods. Light Hope. A seaside town in flames. The silhouette of a towering woman, sword in hand.

She heard Light Hope’s distant voice. _“For the honor of Grayskull…”_

Catra didn’t understand, not really – but the sentence echoed through her mind as the visions disappeared. The monster was looming over her, raising its leg for the killing blow.

“For the honor of Grayskull!” she shouted.

There was another flash of light. She cried out in terror as the light consumed her – and then, suddenly, she wasn’t herself anymore. She was something…more. Her fear was gone. Her thoughts were no longer in chaos. The clearing seemed smaller than before. The sword felt right in her hand.

She looked calmly at the beetle, her eyes now level with its. It took a step back, lowering its leg. Then she walked past it, over to the fallen tree. She reached under, and without difficulty, she lifted the broken trunk and set it aside. She stared down at the crumpled figure of a girl in a red jacket.

Adora opened her eyes. “C-Catra?” she asked weakly.

Suddenly, the trance was broken. Catra looked down at herself. She was massive, and she was wearing a dazzling white-and-gold outfit with a skirt, and was that a _tiara_ in her hair?

She screamed, dropping her weapon, and – to her relief – she was instantly herself again. She backed away from the sword, staring at it, wide-eyed.

Adora gawked at her. “How…how did you do that?!”

“I-I don’t know! It was the sword!”

She heard another monstrous shriek from behind. She turned – the beetle was angry again. It lumbered towards them.

“Uh, do it again, do it again!” Adora begged, struggling to her feet.

Catra leaped for the sword and spun it awkwardly around. She remembered some of the words, but they were a jumble now. “B-by the power of…no, uh, for the honor of…” She winced. “I don’t know how!”

“Catraaa!”

In seconds, the beetle would be on top of them, and Adora was too weak to get away. Catra’s mind raced. Then her eyes narrowed. “Can you walk?” she demanded.

Adora took a step, groaning in pain. “I think so…”

“Then get to the skiff.”

“What about–”

“I’ll be fine, GO!”

With that, Catra charged, swinging the sword against one of the beetle’s legs – it bounced harmlessly off. The monster swiped back at her, but she leaped out of the way, circling around it. She whacked it again, pausing just long enough to make sure she had its attention. Then she turned and ran. She didn’t know where she was going; it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting that thing away from Adora.

She looked over her shoulder one last time. Sure enough, the monster was charging after her. Behind it stood Adora, one arm clutching her waist, the other reaching out towards Catra. Her lips moved, and Catra could just barely make out the words.

“Don’t go.”

But she had to. She faced forward, too busy sprinting to worry about the lump in her throat.

Catra ran and ran. She made sharp turns, trying to throw the monster off her trail, but they didn’t seem to help. She tried leaping into the treetops, but the moment she stopped moving, the beetle brought down the tree she was in. She had barely avoided being crushed. So, finally, she tried the only option she had left: outrunning it.

She went as fast and as far as she could, gambling that she was quicker than the monster…or, at least, that it would eventually lose interest. The gamble seemed to be paying off; as she ran, the beast’s quick, pounding footsteps faded gradually into the distance.

But her adrenaline eventually faded, and her breathing became difficult and ragged. A few minutes later, she could go no further. She dropped the sword and collapsed onto her hands and knees, gasping for air, hoping desperately that she’d shaken the creature. If she hadn’t, she was done for.

She listened for a few seconds. All she heard was her own raspy breathing, and the pounding of her heart. She’d gotten away.

Catra rolled onto her back, staring up at the dense canopy of the forest. Moonlight poured in through gaps in the leaves, casting a gentle bluish light upon the towering tree trunks and the curtains of pink moss that hung between them. Before tonight, she’d only seen the fearsome Whispering Woods in simulations and propaganda posters. In this moment of peace, they seemed innocent enough…beautiful, even. But they were just as dangerous as the Horde had said.

She needed to find her way back. But how? She’d gotten turned around during the chase. Her best bet was probably to double back and follow the tracks the beetle had made while pursuing her, but of course, that risked another encounter with the thing. She grimaced at the thought – if she ran into it again, the sword would be her only hope.

The sword. She reached out and grabbed it, holding it aloft, staring at her reflection in the blade. It had transformed her into some kind of…princess! A part of her was afraid; she almost wanted to throw away the sword and be done with it.

But she had felt so much _power_ under that stupid tiara. Power that had saved her life, pacified the beetle, freed Adora…and perhaps it could do even more for her. If she could master the sword, she’d be the strongest fighter in the entire Horde – she was sure of it.

She smirked. It would be Shadow Weaver’s worst nightmare.

Her fantasy was interrupted by a distant _thwip_. Catra sat up, looking curiously around – there was something in the air, approaching quickly from her right. She squinted. What was it?

It was an arrow, and it burst open, releasing a net that flung itself around her and forced her arms against her body. She cried out in alarm, dropping the sword as she fell onto her side. She clawed desperately at the ropes – but just as she managed to free herself, she heard a strange twinkling sound, followed by a high-pitched voice from right above her.

“Don’t move, Horde scum!”

Catra looked up, and found a short, pink-haired girl in a purple leotard and pale blue cape. Her palm was aimed at Catra, enveloped in an ominous pink glow. Magical sparkles danced around it. She had to be a princess.

“Where’d you come from?” Catra exclaimed. She glanced quickly around, and found a second assailant emerging from some bushes – a dark-skinned boy in blue pants and a brightly-colored…armored…crop top? She couldn’t make sense of his outfit, but his golden bow and notched arrow were easier to parse.

She considered making a run for it, but they had two shots on her, and she was still in terrible shape. So, with an exaggerated sigh, she held up her open palms.

“That’s more like it,” the princess said smugly. “Bow, tie her up.”

Catra struggled to unpack the sentence as the boy nodded and pulled a length of rope from his pocket. Then she snorted.

“Your _name_ is _Bow_?”

He gave a slight smile as he tied Catra’s wrists together. “It was a happy coincidence.”

“Hey, no fraternizing with the Horde spy!” the princess insisted.

Catra smirked. “Do you even know what a spy is, Sparkles?”

“Hmph.” The princess leaned over and picked up the sword. “Is this it, Bow?”

Bow stood up and examined it. “Yep, it’s definitely First Ones tech.”

“Then it’s a good thing we kept her from stealing it,” the girl declared proudly.

Catra rolled her eyes. “Hey, I _found_ it, fair and square.”

“Yeah, while trespassing in the Whispering Woods. How did you even make it this far? This place is under the Rebellion’s protection.”

Catra scoffed. “Protection? You’re the first Rebel soldiers I’ve seen out here – no wonder you guys are losing.”

The princess clenched her fist. “On your feet…Horde scum. Bow, give me the tracker pad.”

Catra leaped to her feet, careful to hide her pain. It was the first rule of the Horde – never show weakness. The girl began walking away, focused on her tracker pad, dragging the sword along in her free hand; Bow motioned in her direction, and after a moment, Catra started to follow her.

_Ow. Ow. Ow._

Bow walked alongside Catra, folding up his weapon and slinging it onto his back. “Hey, Glimmer,” he called out to the princess, “are you sure this is the right way? I thought…”

“Will you just _trust_ me for once?” she interrupted.

“You know I always trust you,” he answered charitably, “but we were already kind of lost before we started tracking the Horde soldier.”

“It’s _fine_ , okay? Just let me figure this out,” Glimmer said, vanishing – to Catra’s surprise – in a puff of sparkles.

“Oookay. Touchy.” Bow glanced over at Catra. “Sorry about her. Usually she’s really nice.”

Catra smirked. “She must be under a lot of stress, with the whole ‘losing the war’ thing.”

Bow was quiet for a moment. “The Horde has hurt a lot of people. People close to us.”

“It’s war,” Catra scoffed. “You’d hurt us right back.”

“We just want to defend our homes.”

“Don’t give me a speech. I didn’t buy Hordak’s line about bringing ‘order and peace’, either.”

Bow cocked an eyebrow. “Then…why are you with the Horde?”

“Because someday, I’m gonna run the place,” Catra said with a grin. “No Hordak. No Shadow Weaver. Just me and…”

Her face fell. She trailed off, rubbing her arm anxiously.

_I hope she’s okay._

Adora pounded on the metal door for the third time, shifting her weight nervously, ignoring the pain in her side. She was about to knock a fourth time when the door slid open; Shadow Weaver was floating beyond it, her hands clasped tightly together.

“Adora,” she observed, her voice strained. “What…is it?”

Adora saluted. “Shadow Weaver! I know it’s late, and I’m sorry, but I, I need your help – I went out to scout for tomorrow’s mission, and I took Catra with me, but we were split up, and I couldn’t find her, and–”

“ _Calm_ yourself, child.”

Adora took a deep breath. “Yes, Shadow Weaver. Sorry, Shadow Weaver.”

“You went to the Whispering Woods? Just the two of you?”

“Yes. It was stupid, I know–”

“To put it mildly.”

“I accept full responsibility. But…Catra’s still out there. We need to organize a search party and–”

“A search party? Adora, the Whispering Woods are crawling with rebel soldiers. It would be irresponsible to put additional soldiers at risk for one cadet. You should realize that. It is your duty as Force Captain to make such difficult decisions.”

“Please,” Adora pleaded. “I…I’ll go back there alone if I have to. She’d do the same for me.”

Shadow Weaver sighed. “Always so headstrong…so impetuous. Very well. Perhaps we could spare a _handful_ of troops for this little escapade, but only if the Woods can be made more secure.”

“Well…we’re attacking Thaymor tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, and it will help. But once that stronghold is toppled, our enemies will be quick to regroup, and will continue to threaten any search parties we send out. If you wish to save Catra, you must do more than conquer Thaymor – you must ensure that none of the rebels escape.”

Adora hesitated. Then, after a moment, she narrowed her eyes. “Yes, Shadow Weaver. Understood.”

“Very good, Adora. Now go – rest. You have a busy day ahead of you.”

The door slid shut again. Adora backed away, turning slowly down the hall.

During the day, she’d committed maps of Thaymor to memory; now she reviewed them in her head. She considered reconnaissance, contemplated the expected enemy strength, and went over her contingency plans.

The most important contingency, of course, was how to handle a princess. The Horde had basic rules for engaging them: stick with your team, try to get close, and always call for backup. But that wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t allow a princess to stand in her way…not anymore.

Adora wasn’t heading to the barracks. She was heading to the briefing room. There were still a few hours before dawn; she would spend them developing her attack plan and studying the Horde’s princess dossiers. She was too anxious to sleep, anyway.

_Catra…I won’t let you down._


	2. The Sword, Part 2

The Whispering Woods were full of strange sights – glowing blue mushrooms, ancient-looking trees that bent in all sorts of bizarre directions, and occasional glowing particles that seemed to drift through the air of their own accord. Maybe they were tiny bugs? Catra couldn’t tell.

As she walked, she wondered at the scent of sap, fresh leaves, and nearby flowers. She listened to the wind as it blew gently between the trees. Hostile territory or not, the Woods were enchanting. They offered a nice distraction from her many bruises.

So did Glimmer. The princess kept poofing in and out, glaring at her tracker pad, occasionally letting out a groan. Catra’s tail swished back and forth as she watched the girl’s growing frustration. These rebels were less competent than she’d thought.

Bow was still walking alongside her, glancing around the dark forest, a hint of anxiety sometimes creeping onto his face before disappearing again. As they came to a thick and twisted root, almost waist-high, he offered his hand to help her over – but she brushed it aside and climbed over by herself, doing her best to ignore the sharp pain in her thighs as she lifted them.

_Never show weakness._

“Is something wrong?” Bow asked. He sounded sincere.

“What? I’m fine.”

“You keep…grimacing.”

She glared at him. “ _Maybe_ I’m just annoyed by all your stupid quest– whaah!”

Her foot had caught on a small, jagged stone. She fell forward, grunting as she hit the dirt.

“Whoa, hey, are you alright?” Bow asked, leaning over – but Glimmer popped in and stuck her arm in front of him.

“Careful!” she insisted. “It could be a trick!”

Catra rolled her eyes. “You heard the princess – don’t help your unarmed, tied-up prisoner. You guys are real heroes.”

She smirked as she bounced up onto her feet – but this time, she couldn’t hide her groan of pain. Glimmer’s expression softened; Catra glared back at her.

“Ugh. I’m fine! Let’s just move.”

She took a few steps, awkwardly brushing some dirt from her shoulder.

“Whoa, not that way, not that way!” Bow shouted.

“Huh?” Catra turned to look ahead – and found her toes dangling over the edge of a cliff. She leaped backwards, her hair standing on end. “Why is there a cliff here?!” she yelped.

“I don’t think it formed naturally,” Bow said, pointing. “Look.”

The cliff formed one end of a wide pit. The sides of the pit were obscured by a layer of dense foliage, but it seemed to be shaped like a square; on the opposite side was a wall of sheer rock. Set into that wall, there was a triangular door, covered in etchings – it took Catra a few tries to process those etchings into a word.

“What’s ‘Eternia’?” she wondered aloud as she climbed to her feet.

“What?” Glimmer asked, giving her a confused look.

Catra glared at her. “That’s the word on the door.”

Her captors exchanged glances. “That’s…First Ones writing,” Bow said hesitantly.

“So…what? You can’t read it?”

“I’m not so sure _you_ can read it,” Glimmer said, crossing her arms and shooting Catra a suspicious look. “I think this is just another trick.”

Catra laughed. “Are you always this paranoid, Sparkles? What do you think I have to _gain_ from–”

She was interrupted by a distant shriek. A familiar one. Her ears stood at attention.

“Did you…hear that?” she asked.

“Oh, great, change the subject!” Glimmer replied.

There was a second shriek. It was louder…closer.

“I heard that one,” Bow admitted nervously.

Catra took a deep breath. “Give me the sword.”

“What?!” Glimmer exclaimed.

Catra looked sharply at the princess. “If you give me the sword, then…maybe I can stop it.”

“I am _not_ giving you the–”

Catra looked back in time to spot the silhouette of a massive insect among the trees. It was charging straight for them. In a few seconds, it would be here – and this time, she was too weak to get away.

She gritted her teeth. Then she turned towards Glimmer and leaped, reaching her tied hands desperately for the sword – but the wide-eyed princess vanished in a puff of pink sparkles, and Catra found herself sailing over the edge of the cliff.

She stared wide-eyed at the ground below. It rose quickly to meet her – she tried to catch herself on all fours, but her limbs gave out on impact, and she smacked painfully into the dirt. A moment later, Glimmer appeared next to her in a shower of sparkles. Her eyes were wide with fury.

“Why would you do that?!” she shouted.

Before Catra could answer, Bow came skidding down the angled face of the cliff. A moment later, the beetle monster appeared at the top, letting out an angry cry as it stumbled over the edge. The three of them ran, and the monster slammed into the ground where they’d been a moment before; the force of the impact dislodged a few boulders, and they came down on top of the beetle, burying it. But the monster was relentless – with another awful cry, it began to shake itself free.

Bow reached the door first. He slammed awkwardly into it, then pulled ineffectually at one of the cracks.

“It won’t…budge!”

“I can get us in there,” Glimmer said, clenching her fist.

“What? No!” Bow replied, still trying to pry the door open. “You’ve never teleported three people before!”

“Do you have a better idea?” she demanded.

Catra stared up at the door, and the word carved across it.

_Maybe it’s some kind of…password._

“Eternia…?”

The etchings on the door lit up. Catra laughed triumphantly as it split into five geometric sections and opened wide. She darted through; Bow was hot on her heels.

“Oh come on!” Glimmer exclaimed. The monster was nearly on top of her – Bow grabbed her hand and yanked her inside. A moment later, the door slammed shut, leaving them in the dark.

There were three sighs of relief.

A bright pink ball appeared in front of Glimmer’s outstretched hand, casting the room in dim light. They were in a long, tall entryway, with a row of crystalline pillars on either side. Ahead of them, the hallway faded into darkness.

Catra had never seen this room before, but she recognized some of the basic shapes. She’d seen them in one of her visions – the one with Light Hope – and she could see them in the design of the sword.

Glimmer was still clutching it, and when she noticed Catra’s gaze, her eyes narrowed. “I can’t _believe_ you tried to steal the sword while we were being attacked by that thing! That’s low…even for a Horde soldier.”

“I was trying to _help_.”

“How is that helping?!” Glimmer yelled.

Bow looked thoughtfully at Catra. “You know how to use it…don’t you?”

“What? No!” she insisted, a little too quickly.

Bow kept looking at her. She groaned.

“Look, even if I did know something, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Bow shrugged. “I guess that’s fair.”

Glimmer spun around to glare at him. “Bow! She’s not our friend, she’s our prisoner!”

“I know. But…she did get us in here.”

“To save her own skin! She’s part of the Horde. The Evil Horde! The one that took…”

Glimmer trailed off. After a moment, she wiped a tear from her eye.

“We need to find another way out of here,” she declared, “and get her back to Bright Moon as soon as possible. My mother will know what to do with her.”

With that, Glimmer turned and marched briskly down the hall.

With a shrug, Catra followed. Bow joined her, walking once again by her side.

“Sooo,” he said, “are you some kind of…First Ones scholar for the Horde?”

Catra laughed. “Come on, do I look like a nerd? I hate to break it to you, but all you managed to capture was a cadet.”

Bow furrowed his brow. “The Horde sent a cadet into the Whispering Woods?”

“Nobody ‘sent’ me. I came on my own.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” she snapped.

Bow was quiet for a moment. “Hey…I never introduced myself. I’m Bow.”

“Uh, yeah? I know.”

“It’s still polite,” he answered cheerfully. “So…what’s your name?”

She hesitated. “Catra.”

Bow was quiet again. When she glanced over, she found him biting his lip, desperately stifling laughter. She growled.

“Is something funny?”

“I…I’m really sorry, it’s just…you thought _mine_ was on the nose…”

Catra groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Look at these carvings,” Glimmer called out from ahead, motioning towards a set of dimly-lit etchings on a giant, diamond-shaped doorframe. “I think this might be a First Ones ruin.”

“No duh,” Catra replied, arms crossed. “I don’t even know what a First One is, and I still figured that out.”

Bow chimed in. “The First Ones were the–”

“Nerd talk, don’t care,” Catra interrupted as she slipped past Glimmer, through the door.

“Suit yourself,” Bow replied, following her.

Glimmer muttered, “Don’t encourage her.”

The next room was cavernous. Catra had good night vision, but even so, the pink light barely touched the distant walls. It was also in worse shape than previous rooms; parts of the floor were overgrown, and a few massive, damaged crystals were strewn about, each one the size of a skiff. But what _really_ caught her eye was a towering mural of an imposing female figure. In the dim light, Catra couldn’t make out the color scheme…but she recognized the tiara, and the sword.

She took a nervous step back.

Behind her, her captors were arguing about something. Catra paid them no attention, until she heard a cry of exertion from Glimmer – and suddenly, the room was bathed in bright light. Catra blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted. She checked the mural again – she could see now that the figure was clad in stylized gold and pink.

Bow walked up next to Catra, gazing up at the mural. “Who…is that?”

Catra spotted an inscription. She read it aloud. “She-Ra.”

The mural flashed. Catra watched anxiously as pink light spread across the floor and walls. Then she jumped as a figure appeared in front of them – it was blue and white, feminine but heavily stylized, with geometric patterns covering its cloak. It flickered heavily, and when it spoke, its mouth didn’t move.

“Greetings, administrator. What is your query?”

“L-Light Hope?” Catra asked nervously.

Glimmer looked over at her. “What?”

“What is your query?” the figure repeated. It wasn’t Light Hope. The voice was different, and it seemed simpler…more mechanical.

“I think it’s some kind of ancient hologram,” Bow muttered. He poked at it – his finger passed through.

“What is your query?”

Bow stroked his chin. “Uhhh…hi.”

Catra rolled her eyes and took a step forward, glaring at the hologram. “How do we get out of here?” she demanded.

“Anomaly detected,” it responded. “Please verify administrator status.”

Her tail flicked nervously. “Um…She-Ra? Eternia?”

“Please verify administrator status.”

Catra winced. “Catra?”

A moment passed.

“Unable to verify administrator status. Entering lockdown.”

The figured vanished, and the building began to shake. Catra spun around as the door behind them struggled to close. The mechanism was damaged, but that was soon a moot point – the ruins were shuddering so violently that the ceiling in front of the door collapsed, burying it behind a mass of rubble.

“Great job, Horde scum!” Glimmer shouted.

“Like you would’ve done any better!”

“There’s no way out!” Bow said, fear in his voice.

Glimmer narrowed her eyes. “There’s one way.”

The gears clicked in Catra’s head as Glimmer seized Bow’s shirt.

_Oh no. You’re not leaving without–_

But before she could make a move, Glimmer grabbed her arm, too. Catra stared in surprise.

“Everybody hold on!” Glimmer ordered.

Bow tried to protest, but it was too late. There was a pink flash, and suddenly, the three of them were high above the Whispering Woods. Wind rushed past them; they were in free fall.

“Glimmer!” Bow shouted, grabbing the princess’s shoulder – but her eyes were closed, and she didn’t respond.

Catra’s heart pounded as she stared down at the approaching ground. She braced herself for the end. But then an arrow with an oversized head whizzed past her, and a net burst out, sticking in place between the trees. The three of them tumbled into the net, but their weight was too much for it – it came loose, and they fell another ten feet onto the grass below.

It was a while before the adrenaline faded, but when it did, Catra felt all the cumulative pain and exhaustion of her miserable night. She laid on her back, groaning, as she heard Bow tend to Glimmer – then, a minute later, he came over to her.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Ngh, I’m…fine…just…need a minute,” she replied, rolling onto her side and resting her head on her arm.

He nodded. “That teleport took a lot out of Glimmer. She’ll be alright, but she needs time to recover. I’m gonna keep an eye on her – in the meantime, you should probably get some rest.”

“I don’t…mmm…okay, fine…maybe just…”

She lost her train of thought as she dozed off.

Catra found herself back in the Fright Zone, perched on her favorite platform. She stared out at the horizon. The towering, haphazard buildings looked the same as ever, but the sky was different today. It was a deep, clear blue.

She looked down – the sword was in her hands. She could feel the power emanating from it…the power of “She-Ra”. That power was hers now. She wasn’t completely sure how to activate it, but she’d already figured it out once. She could do it again.

And then they’d _have_ to make her a Force Captain.

Catra took in the view, enjoying the mingling scents of oil and flowers. But as she watched, the blue sky began to fade. It grew darker and darker, until the buildings were lost in a sea of inky black. An icy chill ran down Catra’s spine. She took a long, slow breath. Then she spun around, and sure enough, discovered Shadow Weaver towering over her.

“You seem quite pleased with yourself,” Shadow Weaver observed. “And your new toy.”

Catra fought her instinct to back away. “You don’t get to push me around anymore. Not when I have this thing.” She laughed callously. “You know what? I’ll bet you’re jealous! All your power comes from Hordak.”

“And yours comes from a sword,” Shadow Weaver observed.

“Not _a_ sword,” Catra replied with a smirk. “ _My_ sword. It chose me – I’ll bet it doesn’t even work for anybody else.”

“A bold assumption. I seem to recall it was waiting for someone else.”

Catra furrowed her brow, and thought back to what Light Hope had said. She’d been surprised to see Catra; she’d been expecting someone different. She’d been expecting…

“Adora,” Catra muttered. “This is… _Adora’s_ sword.”

Shadow Weaver’s mask hid her expression, but Catra knew she was smirking.

“Aren’t you clever.”

The sorceress raised her hand, and suddenly, Catra’s body locked up. Bolts of red electricity arced around her. She watched helplessly as dark, wispy shadows surrounded the sword, pulling it from her hands and carrying it over to Shadow Weaver.

“I suppose I should thank you for bringing this to me.”

“Give it back!” Catra shouted. She tried to reach out, but her arms refused to move.

“I am only returning it to its rightful owner. Can you imagine how powerful it will be in her hands?”

“I need it,” Catra whimpered. “P-please.”

“So you can indulge your pathetic fantasies? Face it, Catra: Adora will _always_ be better than you.”

The darkness began to close in around Catra. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.

“With this, she will be my unstoppable champion. And you…will be nothing. You will be…”

Shadow Weaver faded into the suffocating blackness. She didn’t say the last word. She didn’t need to. It was already seared into Catra’s mind.

_Alone._

Catra lurched upright, tears in her eyes.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there!” Bow said, leaning over her and holding his hands up reassuringly. “It’s just me.”

Catra furiously wiped away her tears. She glanced around the clearing. Twenty feet away, Glimmer was sitting on the grass, carefully wrapping a green rope (or maybe just a thin vine?) around the hilt of the sword.

Adora’s sword.

“Feeling any better?” Bow asked.

Catra gave him a sidelong glance. “Not really.”

That was certainly true. But as battered and sore as she still was, she was less exhausted than before; she could run, at least for a little while. That meant she had an opportunity.

Bow was distracted. Glimmer was busy with her rope-tying – and, judging by her sluggish movements, probably still too weak to fight. All Catra had to do was swipe the sword and make a run for it. It would be easy.

_And then what? Bring the sword to Shadow Weaver?_

She watched as Glimmer looped the ropes over her arm and slung the sword across her back. Then the princess climbed shakily to her feet, wincing and clutching at her chest. Catra felt a sudden pang of guilt.

Glimmer looked over at her. “What?” she asked angrily. “Why are you staring?”

There was a question burning in Catra’s mind, but she struggled to ask it. “You didn’t have to…why did you…”

She grimaced.

“Why didn’t you leave me?”

“You would’ve died in there!” Glimmer exclaimed.

“So what? I’m with the Horde, remember? And it’s not like I’m worth–”

Catra paused, wincing.

“I’m…not a valuable captive.”

“Yeah? Well, we save people – even Horde cadets.” Glimmer paused for a moment. Then she sighed in exasperation. “Honestly, why are you still here?”

Catra cocked her head. “Uh…you captured me. Remember?”

“Okay, fine,” Glimmer replied as she walked over. “But Bow and I are hardly a crack security team. You could’ve escaped before…and you could _definitely_ escape now.”

Catra put on her best smirk. “Sorry, Sparkles – I’m not leaving without that sword.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Glimmer shouted; Catra recoiled in surprise. “You said you’re a cadet. And you came to the Whispering Woods…I don’t know, for fun? So why would you rather stay a prisoner than give up on the sword?!”

“I need it,” Catra insisted. “To prove–”

“Forget about proving anything! Just…go home!”

“I don’t WANT to go home!”

It took Catra a moment to realize what she’d said. The anger faded from her eyes, and gave way to something else. Fear.

“N-no, I didn’t…I just…I mean, not without the…”

Glimmer and Bow looked at each other.

“The Horde hurt you too,” Bow said softly.

Catra was trembling. She turned away from the other two, blinking away tears. She hated the Horde, and she hated Shadow Weaver. She hated Adora for being better than her. She hated Bow and Glimmer for being here. And, most of all, she hated herself. For showing weakness to her enemies. For never being good enough. For not being worth–

She felt a pair of arms around her. She whirled her head; Bow had sat down next to her, and was squeezing her gently. She shoved him away with an angry hiss.

“I don’t want your _pity!_ ”

Catra glared at him for a moment longer. Then her expression softened, and she turned away. She pulled in her knees, resting her chin between them as she gazed vacantly at a tree.

“You don’t have to go back,” Bow said.

Her voice was flat and low. “Where else would I go?”

“Well…if you want, you could come with us, to Bright Moon.”

Catra scoffed. “As your prisoner? Pass.”

A few seconds went by in silence. Then Bow stepped in front of Catra, dropping to one knee. Once again, she turned angrily away – but then she heard something snap, and the rope around her wrists fell away.

“There. Now you’re not our prisoner.”

Catra looked down at her freed hands. She looked up at Bow, who gave her a gentle smile. She stared blankly back.

A moment later, Glimmer came over to Bow’s side. The princess still looked tired, but her anger was gone.

“Come on…there’s a village a few miles from here. We can get some supplies.” She hesitated. Then, with some reluctance, she extended her hand to Catra.

Catra swatted it aside, taking some small satisfaction from Glimmer’s groan as she stood up on her own. She crossed her arms, refusing to meet their gazes…but, when they began to walk, she followed.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. The Horde was her family – it was all she’d ever known. How could she leave them? And yet…the other cadets hated her. Shadow Weaver hated her. Was there really anything for her in the Fright Zone?

There was Adora.

Catra clenched her fist as a dozen conflicting feelings bubbled to the surface. Maybe she _should_ run away – it would serve Adora right for being Shadow Weaver’s pet all these years. But, on the other hand, the thought of never seeing Adora again made her feel sick. Of course, Adora had new friends now. Would she even miss Catra?

It was a long, agonizing walk to the village.

Catra had seen villages before, but only in training simulations. She’d always assumed they were sterile, mechanical places like the Fright Zone – but this one was vibrant and full of life. From the outskirts, she could see dozens of people; some dancing atop a large table, others sharing meals, a few watching their children at play. All the people had antlers, unkempt hair, and long pointed ears. Catra watched them curiously.

Suddenly, Glimmer grabbed her wrist and pulled her aside. Catra snarled, baring her claws.

“Hey!” Glimmer exclaimed. “I’m trying to help. You still look like a Horde soldier – the village will freak out if they see you.”

Catra crossed her arms and pouted. “Ugh. Fine! You two go, then. I’ll just…wait here.”

Glimmer paused. After a moment, she let out a long, exasperated groan. “Okay. We can fix this,” she declared, gesticulating at Catra’s outfit. “But the headband and the belt need to go.”

The headband? That made sense. It was far from Horde standard issue, but, Catra thought with a hint of pride, it did make her look pretty intimidating. She pulled it off and set it carefully on the ground, under a bush. Why the belt, though? She glanced down, irritated, at the belt slung diagonally across her waist – and immediately noticed the Horde symbol on the buckle.

_Oh. Right._

She took that off too.

“There. Are we done?” she asked impatiently. But Glimmer ignored her, busy unfastening her sparkling blue cape. She pulled it off and, with it in hand, turned towards Catra, who recoiled slightly. The princess looked almost menacing, though she couldn’t figure out exactly why.

Not until Glimmer flung the cape over her. Catra stood perfectly rigid, one eye twitching as the colorful, glittery fabric settled over her. She struggled to keep her claws under control as Glimmer fastened the cape around her shoulder.

“Ta-dah!” the princess declared.

Catra stared down at the improvised shawl. She looked up again, glaring at Glimmer in furious silence.

“You need something to tie it all together,” Bow suggested, picking a flower from a nearby bush.

Catra growled at him. With a nervous smile, he dropped the flower and backed away.

Glimmer looked her up and down, her eyes lingering on Catra’s long ears. “Well, like it or not, you should blend in pretty well.”

Catra exhaled and relaxed her claws. After a moment, she noticed Glimmer’s gaze, and rubbed one ear self-consciously.

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

She spun around and set off, eager to get out of her ridiculous disguise; Bow and Glimmer fell into step behind her.

As she walked into the village, she gazed over at one of the buildings. It was off-white and shaped like a massive oval, with round pockmarks cut into the sides and top. On the roof was a large, bent tree. It was the strangest structure she’d ever seen – and yet, the village was full of buildings just like it.

The grassy stretches between buildings were dotted with even more trees. Pink streamers hung from their branches, and in their shadows, people relaxed around wooden tables. Some stalls had been set up nearby, varying widely in size. Most were heavily decorated; even their roofs were draped in purple and pink fabric.

“Is it always this…colorful?” Catra asked over her shoulder.

“They’ve having a festival,” Bow explained. “You know. Like a big party.”

“Oh,” she answered blankly.

“Wait. Did you…not have parties in the Fright Zone?”

Catra shrugged. “We had raiding parties.”

Bow made a sort of horrified whine. “No…parties…”

“Ohhh no,” Glimmer said, irritated. “We are _not_ here to have fun.”

“But this is an _emergency_!”

“Bow? Hey, no, don’t give me that look…we can’t…” After a pause, Glimmer groaned. “Fiiiine. I’ll gather the supplies. You can _quickly_ show her-”

Bow let out a cry of delight. Then he darted forward, grabbing Catra by the wrist and dragging her towards one of the smaller stands.

“Hey!” she cried out – but before she could pull her wrist free, she was overwhelmed by a sweet, unfamiliar smell. Her anger faded as she sniffed curiously at the strange, brightly-colored…things laid out across the table.

There were a pair of women behind the counter; one smiled warmly. “Hello! You folks can have one for free, if you’d like.”

“What are they?” Catra asked, leaning down and studying one closely.

“Pastries!” the woman answered cheerfully.

Catra swiped one, nibbling cautiously at the crust. The texture reminded her of a Horde ration bar, except it actually tasted like something. She took a larger bite, and raised her eyebrows – inside the crust was a sweet, gooey filling.

“Thish ish pretty good!” she declared to Bow, spewing crumbs at him. He seemed about to say something, but as Catra shoved more of the pastry into her mouth, he just laughed.

After that, she let Bow lead her over to the tables. People were crowded around the largest one, eating food, chatting with one another, and clapping at the trio of dancers using it as a makeshift stage. But there were no empty seats, so the two of them sat down at the next table over.

Bow watched the dancers happily, starting to clap along. Catra looked over for a moment, but she quickly lost interest in their twirls; dancing was only fun with a partner. She focused instead on the platters of food at the center of her table. She looked around – no one seemed to be guarding them. Quickly and furtively, she snatched up a handful of pastries.

Once she’d had her fill, she got up and wandered off, looking for something to do. Bow followed her excitedly to one of the larger stands, where a man handed her three rings and pointed her towards a set of wooden poles. Of course, she thought with confidence, rings weren’t all that different from bolos or grenades – and sure enough, she landed all three of them on the center pole. That was enough to earn a little stitched doll as a prize. She tossed it casually to Bow before moving on.

Soon after, they came across a group of children gathered at the foot of a tree. An urn hung from one of the branches, and the children were whacking it with sticks, trying to break it open. Upon noticing Catra, one of the children offered her a stick – but she pushed it aside. She stepped past the kids and, with a smirk, readied her claws. One clean swipe shattered the urn. Brightly-colored round things poured from it, and the children gathered them excitedly from the ground. Curious, Catra leaned over and picked one up. She gave it a sniff, then a cautious taste; it was candy! She couldn’t believe it. In the Fright Zone, a single piece of contraband candy was worth a full day’s rations. Here, they gave piles of it to their children!

She spent the next half hour roaming the festival, grabbing every piece of candy she could find. She lost Bow at some point, but that didn’t bother her – not when there were so many sights and sounds and sweets to explore!

Her problems were only a distant memory.

It took a bit of searching, but Catra found a roof flat enough to lounge on. Now she was doing just that. She gazed up at the morning sky, sampling sweets from her sizable hoard, trying to pick a favorite kind. It was no use. She loved them all.

A muffled grunt came from off to her side. She glanced over, and watched Bow pull himself over the rounded edge of the roof. He gave Catra a cheerful wave before turning to help Glimmer up; then he led the exhausted princess over.

“I miss teleporting,” Glimmer muttered. Was the princess entirely out of magic?

Well, Catra didn’t really care. She was too distracted by the crown jewel of her collection – a big puffy pink thing on a cone. She nibbled curiously at it, and her eyes widened as the sweet, fluffy material dissolved in her mouth.

“Ha, this one’s crazy! What’s it called?”

“Cotton candy,” Glimmer replied, sitting down beneath the tree at the center of the roof. She leaned hesitantly against it, but something made her wince – she slipped the sword off her shoulder and set it down, then settled back more comfortably.

Catra smiled. “I’ll bet Adora would–”

The cheery trance of the festival came to an abrupt end. Her thoughts turned gloomy; her eyes sank, and so did her ears.

“Who’s Adora?” Bow asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Catra snapped.

Bow looked away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

She grimaced. “Look, she’s just…she’s a friend, alright?”

“Back in the Horde?”

“Yeah. We…grew up together.”

“In the Fright Zone? That must’ve been rough.”

Catra scoffed. “Not for her.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a distant explosion. Catra leaped up onto all fours, her back arched and her hair standing on end. She scanned quickly for the source – was this another weird party thing? No, she realized, as she spotted a pillar of smoke rising from the other end of the village. This was an attack.

“What’s going on?” Glimmer asked.

Catra stood up straight to get a better look. Sure enough, after a few moments, she spotted round, spider-like bots climbing onto some of the buildings, firing red beams down onto the village below.

“It’s the Horde,” Bow said, drawing his weapon. “They’re here.”

Catra’s heart pounded. How could the Horde be here? Was Shadow Weaver tracking her? Was she here?! Catra’s tail curled anxiously around her leg.

“Why would the Horde attack Thaymor?!” Glimmer exclaimed. “It isn’t a threat to them!”

_Thaymor._

Catra breathed a sigh of relief. The Horde wasn’t here for her – she’d stumbled into the path of a preplanned attack. But not just any attack, she remembered, her ears perking up. Adora was here! Here, and for a little while, away from Shadow Weaver.

Suddenly, Catra knew what she wanted.

She’d stuck with the Horde all this time in the hope that she might eventually get to take charge. But why wait for promotion? With the sword – with She-Ra – she could go anywhere, and she’d get to call the shots.

That left only one reason to stick around. Adora might be stupid, and annoying, and way too uptight…but Catra couldn’t imagine life without her.

So she would take Adora with her.

Bow still had his weapon out, but he was busy pulling Glimmer to her feet. The sword was lying next to them on the roof. Catra shifted her weight, hesitating for just a moment. She glanced over at Glimmer, and for a moment, their eyes met.

“Sorry, Sparkles.”

Then she lunged, grabbing the sword and, in a single fluid motion, rolling over the edge of the roof. She landed gracefully on the grass below, then scrambled behind another building, breaking Bow’s line of sight.

“Catraaa!” he called out. She felt a pang of guilt…but, she thought, it was Bow and Glimmer’s own fault for trusting her. She paused just long enough to rip off her disguise and sling the sword across her back. Then, with a determined look on her face, she set off towards the sounds of screaming and weapons fire.

The village was in chaos. Catra darted past wide-eyed people, who fled in the opposite direction, away from the roar of another explosion. As the sound faded, Catra heard the familiar hum of a skiff engine; she ducked behind a tree just in time to avoid being spotted. With her ears, she might easily be mistaken for a villager.

She yelped as a red beam nearly hit her; it came from one of the bots on the rooftops. She scampered behind a building, dodging another blast on the way, silently cursing Hordak for making the stupid machines.

She paused to catch her breath – and to think. Where would Adora be? So far, Catra had only seen fast-moving skiffs and expendable bots. They were likely serving as a vanguard, throwing the target into disarray while the main assault force moved up behind them. It was textbook stuff; even Catra knew the basics. And if Adora was following the playbook that closely, then she’d be just behind the main force.

Catra slipped between buildings, avoiding the road, until she reached the edge of a large clearing. She recognized it – she was back at the center of the festival, where the tables and stands had been set up, and where people had laughed and danced and played beneath the trees. Now the people were gone, the tables were charred, the stands were flattened, and the trees were in flames.

She needed to focus. The main force still wasn’t here, but she did spot a handful of armored soldiers on the far side of the clearing, entrenched behind a ruined pavilion.

She gathered her courage. Then she stepped out into the open, hands raised. Some of the soldiers aimed their weapons, but as she approached, their Sergeant motioned for his troops to stand down.

“Cadet Catra?” he called out. “Is that you?”

She looked at him, head cocked. “Uh, yeah. How’d you know?”

“We’ve been on the lookout for you. Trooper! Take Catra over to the Force Captain.”

Catra blinked as another soldier stood up, motioning for her to follow. They led Catra quickly around a burning building, past another squad of troops in cover. She spotted a tank nearby – it fired its main cannon, blowing apart another building, but it didn’t move. Why wasn’t anyone advancing?

As they turned the corner, Catra realized she was right where she’d started, at the outskirts of the village. Off to the left, she could even see the bush where she’d hidden her headband and belt. But her guide led her in a different direction, towards a trio of armored soldiers. Two of them stood alert, weapons at the ready, guarding their leader as she talked into her wrist communicator.

The leader glanced up, and for a moment, stared. Then Adora ripped off her helmet and ran over, on the verge of tears as she threw her arms around Catra.

“Catra! I…I’m so sorry, I tried to find you last night, but I couldn’t, so I went back to the Fright Zone, b-but I told everyone to look for you today, and…”

For a moment, Catra allowed herself a genuine, happy smile. Then it turned to a smirk, and she pushed Adora away. “Hey, easy there, Force Captain! Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the troops.”

Adora grabbed her by the shoulders instead, smiling widely. But Catra’s smirk faded as she took a closer look at her friend – there were deep bags under Adora’s eyes.

“Uh…hey, Adora, have you…slept?”

“No!” she declared, beaming. “I had to make sure the plan was…that everything was perfect.”

“Perfect, huh? Shouldn’t the troops be, I dunno – doing something?”

“They are doing something!” Adora insisted. “They’re preventing rebels from escaping.”

The gears turned in Catra’s head. Then, after a second, they clicked; Adora had Thaymor surrounded. She’d won before even firing a shot – all she had to do now was drive the panicked villagers into her waiting troops.

Catra’s tail flicked uncomfortably. There would be no escape for Bow and Glimmer.

“We needed to make the Woods secure enough to search for you. But now you’re back!” Adora said cheerfully. “Uh, we still need to wrap things up here, obviously. But as soon as we’re done, we’ll get you back to the Fright Zone.”

Catra rubbed her arm nervously. “Uh…well, actually, I was thinking…”

“Oh! I better tell Shadow Weaver we found you. She must be worried–”

“NO!” Catra yelled, her claws coming out instinctively.

Adora gave her a confused look. “Uh, Catra, she’s our superior–”

“Can I talk to you?” Catra asked, eyeing her frantically. “In…private?”

Adora glanced over at her guards – they were still watching for danger, but they were well within earshot.

“Do you think it could wait? Sorry, I really need to get back to…ya know…giving orders. Force Captain stuff.” She smiled. “But we’ll catch up–”

“I’m not going back,” Catra declared.

Adora stared at her blankly.

“What?”

Catra took a deep breath. “I’m not going back,” she repeated. “Shadow Weaver is…she’s trying to split us up.”

“Come on, she is not!” Adora put her hands on her hips. “Is this because she caught you cheating?”

“Adora, she…” Catra took another breath. “She threatened to kill me if I didn’t stay away from you.”

Adora sighed. “Catra, you’re being dramatic again.”

“Dramatic?! Do you even…do you _hear_ the way she talks to me?!”

“Well, yeah, but…she only talks that way because you’re so disrespectful!”

Catra clenched her fist. “Why are you taking _her_ side?!”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side!”

“Well try taking _mine_ for a change!”

The two were quiet for a moment. Catra gathered her thoughts.

“We don’t need her, Adora. It could be just the two of us – wouldn’t that be great?”

Adora stared. “The Horde…it’s our family, Catra. And we have a duty to it. To help make Etheria a better place!”

“A better place?! Do you have _any idea_ what you’re doing here?”

“Attacking a stronghold of dangerous instigators!”

Catra gave her a mocking laugh. “Wow, Adora! I didn’t think you were _this_ dumb.” She motioned towards the burning village. “Does that look like a _stronghold_ to you?”

But Adora was unfazed. “This base was disguised as a civilian settlement! It’s a disgusting tactic. Shadow Weaver says–”

“Shadow Weaver is using you!” Catra shouted, shoving her friend backwards. She was on the verge of tears. “And you’re…you’re choosing her…over…”

“Catra? Catra!”

She turned away, and began to run – but she only made it a few steps before a jolt of electricity stabbed her in the back. With a cry of pain, she tumbled to the ground. When she looked up, she found Adora looming over her with a stun gun; the blonde’s eyes were wide, but they quickly narrowed.

“I-I’m sorry…but it’s for your own good! You’re not thinking clearly.” She turned to her guards, who were rushing over to help. “Cuff her, and prep her for transport! Be as gentle as you can.”

“A-Adora,” Catra pleaded. “Don’t do this. Please.”

Adora looked back over her shoulder as she holstered her weapon. She wiped a tear from her eye, and then offered a weak smile. “You’ll thank me later. I promise.”

Then she walked away.

One of the guards grabbed Catra by the wrists. The other pulled a pair of thick handcuffs from his belt; Catra glared at them, hissing and struggling until she was able to wrench one of her arms free. As she felt the cold metal close in around her other wrist, she let out a scream of anguish and rage; she was a prisoner again. She laughed hysterically – she’d betrayed Bow and Glimmer, even after they’d risked their lives for her, even after they’d set her free. And now, thanks to that decision, she was a prisoner again.

But something was calling to her. It wasn’t a sound so much as a feeling…a familiar one. She – they – still had one chance.

“Get the weapon!” one of the guards shouted as Catra pulled the sword free from its straps. It was glowing, and it felt warm in her hand. She raised it shakily to the sky, and as tears streamed down her cheeks, she shouted the words that burned bright in her mind:

“For the honor of Grayskull!”

Time seemed to stand still as the transformation began. She felt her body change, growing taller and stronger; the sword grew to match. She twirled it in her hand as a halo of burning light climbed up her body, leaving a new outfit in its wake – tall white boots, white leggings, a short skirt, and an ornate white vest with a golden collar and shoulder pads. A red cape extended from her shoulders as the light reached her hair, turning it into a billowing, platinum blonde mess; after a moment, a winged tiara materialized on her forehead, and it seemed to bring the chaos under control. But there was still something missing. She snapped her fingers, and golden gauntlets appeared around her forearms. Then she leveled the sword with a confident smirk.

Once more, her fear and turmoil were gone. She looked down at the guards, who were frozen in place – she now towered above them. One of them drew his stun gun, but with a casual swipe of her sword, Catra cleaved the weapon in half.

“Call for backup, call for backup!” one of the troopers screamed as they fled. Catra ignored them, busy examining the Horde shackles still dangling from her wrist. She reached under the metal cuff and pulled, ripping it open; then she tossed the cuffs aside.

Machinery whirred from somewhere behind her. She turned, and found a line of bots descending from the rooftops of the ruined village. A red beam erupted from the nearest one, but Catra deflected it with the sword. That was the only shot she allowed them. She flipped the sword around and plunged it into the ground, releasing an electrical pulse that left the bots sparking and shuddering.

As the smoking machines collapsed, Catra heard a new sound: the roar of a cannon. There was an enormous green energy bolt barreling towards her – she sliced it in two, and the halves flew past her, demolishing a pair of distant trees. She glared at her attacker: a hover tank, holding position further down the tree line. She set off at a run, crossing the distance in seconds, before leaping onto the vehicle’s hull and stabbing her sword into it – its engine sputtered out, and it dropped to the ground.

Another pair of tanks rounded a building, turning to face her. But she was on them before they could line up a shot, slicing through their armor like butter. Their crews emerged from the hatches, throwing themselves to the ground and stumbling towards safety. A moment later, their vehicles exploded, one after the other.

The second blast pushed Catra back, but she stayed on her feet, sword gripped tight as smaller energy bolts began to fly around her. Horde troopers were emerging from the edge of the town, taking positions behind trees, as if such pitiful cover could protect them from her. She slashed in their direction, creating a shockwave of magical energy that flattened half a dozen trees and sent the soldiers flying. There was another group of troopers firing from a building – so Catra unleashed another shockwave, and brought the structure down on top of them.

For a moment, nothing moved, and the only sound was the crackling of flames. Then the soldiers began climbing shakily to their feet, a few of them barking orders to the rest. But those orders weren’t to attack; instead, the soldiers made for the woods, running for their lives. Catra twirled the sword in her hand, ready to chase them down.

But then, among the troopers, she spotted someone standing in place. It was Adora.

All Catra’s power disappeared, leaving her in a daze. The sword clattered to the ground as she fell to her knees and locked eyes with her friend. She was prepared to face Adora’s frustration, or even her rage, but there wasn’t any. There was only pain.

“Adora!” she cried out, reaching toward the trees. But it was too late – the teary-eyed Force Captain backed away, then turned to flee with her army.

Catra was left alone.

Seconds turned into minutes. She sat there, among the smoldering wrecks of Horde war machines, fighting back tears. She was so lost in her misery that she didn’t notice Bow and Glimmer until their arms were wrapped around her.

“Wha?!” she cried out.

“That was incredible!” Glimmer shouted. “You saved everyone!”

“I…did?”

Catra glanced over at the village. The ground was stained with ash, and all the curious little round buildings had been reduced to rubble. But the fires were going out, at least, and awestruck villagers were peeking out from the ruins.

“I’m so sorry we ever doubted you,” Bow said, his voice full of emotion.

“No, I’m not…I-I didn’t…”

“Looks like you’re one of the good guys after all,” Glimmer declared proudly.

Catra felt like she was going to be sick.

The two finally released her. They were smiling, but as they looked at her, their expressions turned to concern.

“Whoa…hey, are you okay?” Bow asked.

“I’m fine,” Catra lied in flat monotone.

“You did the right thing,” Glimmer offered.

“Whatever.” Catra sighed. She looked glumly over to where the soldiers had fled. “It’s not over, you know. The Horde – they’ll keep coming for me. They’re not big on…traitors.” She rubbed her arm uncomfortably.

“Bow was right,” Glimmer said. “You should come to Bright Moon with us.”

“No!” Catra yelled, tensing up and digging her claws into the dirt. “I’m done taking orders! And if you try and take me prisoner again–”

“We’re not giving an order,” Bow reassured her. “We’re asking. As friends.”

Catra stared at him. Then, after a moment, she allowed herself to relax.

“If you’re worried about the Horde,” Glimmer added, “there’s no place safer.”

Catra rested her head on her hand, shivering slightly. She no longer cared where she went, or what she did. Nothing mattered. Bright Moon was no worse than anywhere else.

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”

Glimmer offered her hand, and once again, Catra brushed it aside, climbing to her feet without help. She reached over to pick up the sword, spotting her weary reflection in its blade. For a moment, she thought she could see the golden tiara in her hair – the sight made her jump. But it was a trick of the light. With a heavy sigh, she grabbed the weapon and slung it quickly across her back, out of sight.

“Sooo…Best Friends Squad?” Bow asked, his voice full of glee.

“We’re not friends,” Catra replied coolly.

“It’ll grow on you,” Bow said cheerfully.

Catra narrowed her eyes as they set off.


	3. Angella

They’d been walking for hours, and nothing had changed – certainly not the view. Catra was sick to death of the dense, misshapen trees that lined the sides of the dirt road. If she never saw the Whispering Woods again, it would be too soon. In fact, she was so busy looking at the ground, complaining to herself, that she didn’t notice the approaching shoreline until she had nearly stepped into the water.

She was at the edge of a vast bay, set between a smoothed-out cliff face and two huge pillars of rock. A narrow, curved path ran out across the shimmering water; it led to a slender golden tower. At its top, there was a tall, oval-shaped gemstone, floating in place. It emitted a soft blue glow.

A bridge led right from the tower, connecting to a cream-colored hall set high above the water. It was tall and narrow, with a vaulting triangular roof that was flanked by thin, fin-like structures. At the front of the roof was a narrow, winged spire.

“Here we are,” Glimmer declared. “Bright Moon.”

Bow looked to Catra with a smile. “Pretty impressive, right?”

“Not really,” she answered. There were some more buildings in the shadow of the hall, and a small military encampment on the shore – but this place was a joke compared to the dense factories and troop quarters of the Fright Zone.

_No wonder we’re winning._

We? She kicked herself for thinking it, but she couldn’t help it – she still felt like part of the Horde. Just being here felt like another betrayal. Maybe there was still time to go back? It was a thought she’d had many times in the last few hours. But each time, she remembered the pain of a Horde stun gun, and the chill of metal handcuffs.

No. She was _never_ going back.

“Catra?”

Bow’s voice brought her back to the present. Why did her left wrist hurt? She glanced down, and found her other hand wrapped tight around it, claws digging into her skin.

“Are you alright?” Bow asked.

“I’m fine!” she snapped, releasing her arm. “Quit asking!”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about–”

“Do you _ever_ shut up?!”

Bow gave her a now-familiar look – wide eyes, furrowed brow, half-frown. She hated that look. She hated his pity. With a scream of frustration, she turned away, crossing her arms.

In a low voice, Bow replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re pretty good at it.” She groaned. “Let’s just go. We’re almost there.”

Glimmer spoke up. “About that. I need to go recharge…and deal with my mom.”

“What’s the problem? Your little mission was a success.”

Glimmer rubbed her neck and smiled nervously. “Well, yeah, but…the mission wasn’t exactly…approved.” She dropped the smile and sighed. “I’m kiiinda supposed to be grounded.”

Catra cocked her head. “You’re…not allowed to fly?”

“I’m not allowed to go _anywhere_ ,” Glimmer explained, annoyance creeping into her voice. “But it’s fine! Mom’s gonna be super impressed when she finds out about She-Ra. _Assuming she’ll actually listen to me,_ ” the princess added under her breath.

She took a step, only to pause.

“Uh…Bow? Maybe you should take Catra in the back way?”

“Oh,” Bow replied, thinking for a moment. “Yeah! Good call.”

With that, Glimmer set off along the path towards the tower. Bow, on the other hand, walked to the right, following the shoreline. He motioned for Catra to follow.

“The ‘back way’?” she asked suspiciously, falling in step behind him.

“Yep! Just a little secret of ours.”

“You don’t want anyone to see me.”

He froze mid-step. “Whaaat? No! It’s just…uh…scenic!”

He looked back at her with a wide smile. She gave him a dour look, until he dropped the act.

“Look. You’re still wearing a lot of red, and the people here…they’re afraid of the Horde.” He paused. “Can you blame them?”

Catra looked glumly at her feet. “No. I guess not.”

But as they resumed walking, Catra’s thoughts turned once again to acid. She’d been brought here as part of a scheme to impress Glimmer’s mom – a scheme in which she was actually a liability. She was an unwanted part of the package, a dirty little secret that had to be snuck into Bright Moon. Catra was the price of getting She-Ra.

The sword felt cold against her back.

Glimmer couldn’t remember the last time she had walked into Bright Moon. She would normally teleport in – but right now, with her magic so depleted, trying to teleport was a very bad idea. So instead, she got to appreciate the long, boring walk.

At least it was almost over. She was past the tower, nearing the end of the bridge that led to the main hall. Ahead, at the cavernous entrance, a line of stoic guards was waiting for her. And they weren’t alone. A tall, slender figure stormed past them; she wore a pink leotard, purple leggings, and a pale blue cape. Her hair was peach-colored, and her skin had a slight purple hue. But her most striking feature was a pair of large, translucent wings.

It was Queen Angella: immortal being, beloved ruler of Bright Moon…and so on.

“Glimmer!” she cried out as she approached. “Where have you been?!”

“Hey mom,” Glimmer replied flatly. She didn’t bother answering the question – she knew her mother needed to get some more yelling out of her system.

“All of Bright Moon has been worried sick! What were you thinking? How could you be so selfish and disobedient?! You could’ve been killed!”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

Her mother huffed. “You are not indestructible, Glimmer! You can’t afford to be so reckless!”

Glimmer threw her arms out in frustration. “Well _someone_ has to try and stop the Horde!”

Angella’s eyes widened. “You…fought the Horde? On your _own_?!”

“Of course not! Bow was there.”

Angella buried her face in her hands. “Glimmer…”

“Look, I can explain everything – but, uh, can I recharge first? I had to use a lot of magic.”

Her mother breathed heavily, taking a moment to gather herself. “Very well – but this conversation is _not_ over. I will meet you at the Moonstone.”

Glimmer winced. “Uh, so, actually, I maaay have used…ALL my magic.”

Angella rubbed her temple. “Did you even stop to recharge before leaving?”

“Mmhmm! Definitely.” Glimmer’s smile was probably a little too wide.

But it vanished as the queen leaned down. Glimmer groaned loudly, her cheeks turning red as her mother lifted her up and cradled her like a child. Then, with a flap of her wings, Angella carried her into the air.

The flight was mercifully short. They landed gracefully on the round platform at the top of the Moonstone tower, where the glowing stone loomed just overhead; beneath it, a reflective table was waiting. Glimmer began to struggle, and Angella set her down, giving her the very small dignity of walking over to the table herself. She laid down on it, pouting even as she felt magical energy begin to flow into her.

“Is it so awful to be carried by your mother?” Angella asked, her voice wistful.

“It’s the _worst_ ,” Glimmer confirmed.

“Hmph.” The queen’s expression hardened. “In that case, perhaps you’ll think twice the next time you go on some foolish adventure without even charging up.”

“Everything was fine!” Glimmer protested. “I totally had it under control.”

“I very much doubt that.”

The princess shot her mother an irritated look. “Oh, well I’m sorry if I don’t wanna sit around the castle all day like you! Do you even _care_ about the people out there?”

She knew she’d touched a nerve. Her mother’s wings shot outward, and her eyes were once more alight with fury. “How _dare_ you! I am your mother, and I will not be spoken to in this manner! You are–”

“Oh, what, am I _double_ grounded now?”

The queen froze. It took a few seconds, but eventually, her wings folded back up, and the anger drained from her eyes. She walked over to the table and sat down at the edge, looking over at her daughter.

“Glimmer…please. I know it isn’t easy to stay here, safe, while there is so much suffering out there. But you cannot defeat the Horde on your own – certainly not by charging at it without thinking.”

“But we have to do something!” Glimmer insisted. “We’re supposed to protect people.”

“If I could protect everyone, I would. But right now, all we can do is guard our home.”

“And let the Horde destroy everything else?”

“There is nothing more we can do,” Angella emphasized. “Years ago, the princesses stood united, but even that was not enough to defeat the Horde – our position has only weakened since then. I wish things were different…but wishing will not make them so.”

Glimmer’s eyes lit up. She bolted upright. “Okay, so what if I told you I found something _amazing_ out in the woods? Something that could change things – help us fight back against the Horde!”

“And what would that be?” Her mother didn’t sound impressed.

“It’ll be way better if I show you. But you’re gonna love it! I promise.”

She snapped her fingers experimentally, and to her delight, a cloud of pink sparkles appeared. Her magic was back – maybe not at full strength yet, but close enough.

“Glimmer–”

“Ahh, just come to my room, I’ll meet you there!”

With an eager smile, she teleported – the Moonstone tower, and her annoyed mother, vanished in a pink flash. The light faded a moment later, replaced by the round lavender walls of her bedroom.

“I’m here!” she shouted, looking around the room. A circular bed hung over her, while a desk with a large mirror on it and a good-sized dresser were placed against the walls. Between them, underneath a large, open window, there was a cushioned bench – where Catra and Bow sat, clutching each other in fright. Glimmer managed not to laugh at Catra’s frazzled hair and tail.

After a moment, Catra looked over at Bow. Then she shoved him roughly away, and pawed at her hair; at where her headband would’ve been, if they hadn’t left it in the woods. When she was finished, she glared at Glimmer. The princess grinned back.

“Okay!” she announced. “My mom’s on her way, but no one panic.”

“Already?” Bow asked.

“I said no one panic!” Glimmer shouted. She turned to Catra. “Don’t worry! She’ll love you. All you have to do is use the sword to transform into She-Ra before she gets here.”

Bow stood up. He looked nervous. “Are you sure about jumping straight to She-Ra with your mom?”

Glimmer scoffed. “I don’t think she’s gonna buy, ‘hey Mom, we found a Horde soldier, can we keep her?’ But she is gonna looove She-Ra. We can ease her into the Horde stuff later.”

The princess looked back at Catra. She seemed angry, but when didn’t she?

“Fine,” Catra spat. “You’ll get She-Ra.”

“Great!” Glimmer said, bouncing with excitement. “Whenever you’re ready!”

The room went quiet as Catra pulled the sword off her back. She closed her eyes for a second. Then she opened them, giving Bow and Glimmer a sidelong glance.

“Will you quit staring like that? It’s _really_ not helping.”

“Oh! Uh, sorry! Come on Bow, let’s give her some space.”

With that, she wrapped her arms around her friend, shot Catra one last reassuring smile, and teleported away.

Catra stared at her reflection in the sword. She was a mess. Her hair was even more unkempt than usual, and her top was stained with dirt and mud. She tried to put on a confident smirk, but she couldn’t hold it for more than a few seconds; it faded away, revealing the hollowness in her eyes.

No wonder they wanted She-Ra.

She thought back to her last transformation, to everything that had happened. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be She-Ra again. But, of course, it wasn’t about what she wanted. It never was. She had to play the game – that was no different here than in the Fright Zone. And right now, if she wanted to come out on top, she needed to turn into She-Ra.

Catra held up the sword, clutching it tightly in both hands. She closed her eyes, swallowing all her conflicted emotions and painful memories.

“For the honor…of Grayskull.”

Seconds passed. Nothing happened.

She opened one eye and lowered the sword, looking at her reflection again. No golden tiara. Had she spoken too slowly?

“For the honor of Grayskull?” She shook the sword frantically. “For the honor of Grayskull!”

Nothing happened.

It had rejected her.

She screamed, and threw the sword as hard as she could – it crashed into the mirror above Glimmer’s desk, shattering it, falling to the ground amidst a rain of broken glass. Catra collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her hands. There were no tears. She just felt empty.

The door to her left creaked open. It was Bow. He looked over at the broken mirror, then back at her. With his awful look of pity, he slipped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Catra…”

“It’s broken,” she said quietly.

“The mirror?”

“The sword!” she snapped. “It…it doesn’t work anymore.”

_Not for me._

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Bow said, his voice calm. “You’re still figuring out this whole ‘She-Ra’ thing. Maybe…the sword only works in the woods?”

Catra climbed to her feet and began to pace, her mouth curling into a strained smile. She let out a bitter laugh. “You know, it’s actually pretty funny! I mean, I _completely_ fell for it. I even bought that stupid line about ‘the sword chose you’. But magic swords don’t choose me, do they? They choose _Adora_.”

Bow was obviously struggling to follow. “Your friend from the Horde?” he asked.

Catra’s hair stood up, and her whole body went taut as she spun to face him. “She is _not_ my friend!”

He looked at her blankly. “I’m sorry, I thought…”

She laughed again. “Oh, you thought she might stick up for me, for _once_ in her life? Yeah, join the club.”

“But…the sword didn’t pick Adora, right? _You’re_ She-Ra.”

Catra threw up her hands, and shouted, “Not anymore!”

_“Who was that?”_ asked a muffled, unfamiliar voice from the hall outside.

Bow looked over at the door, and let out a nervous “Eep!” Then he whispered, _“It’s Glimmer’s mom!”_ He darted over, reaching the door just as it began to move – he blocked it with his body, refusing to let it open more than a crack.

“Bow?” came the voice, clearer now.

“Heeey, Queen Angella!”

“Is there someone with you? I heard shouting.”

“Whaaat? Nooo,” he answered. “I’m just…uh…practicing my…yodeling.”

“I see. Don’t you have some kind of surprise waiting for me?”

“Yeah, Bow.” That was Glimmer’s voice. “Is the surprise ready?”

“Nope! Definitely not! No surprise here! Don’t you just hate surprises?”

“I think we’ve had enough games,” Angella replied wearily – and with that, she threw open the door. Catra stared at the slender, towering, winged woman, who stared back at her. The queen’s eyes darted over to the broken mirror, and to the sword on the ground.

“Glimmer, who is this?” she asked, an unmistakable edge in her voice. “What’s going on?”

Glimmer backed into the room, facing her mother, motioning with her arms. “Uh…Mom, meet Catra! We met her near Thaymor.”

“Thaymor?” Angella’s eyes widened. With surprising speed, she grabbed Bow and Glimmer and pulled them back through the door. “Guards!” she shouted.

Catra’s heart raced. There were pounding footsteps from the hall outside – she didn’t have much time. She leaped over the field of broken glass, grabbing the sword and jumping back up to her feet. She lifted the weapon, and one last time, she pleaded: “For the honor of Grayskull!”

But nothing happened.

A pair of guards rushed in. They were clad in elegant masks and robes, but they carried long staves, which they held at the ready. Catra leveled the sword back at them.

“Drop the weapon!” one of them barked.

“Stay away from me!” Catra yelled. The guards stepped forward, and she stepped away from them, until she was backed against the wall. Now one of the guards was between her and the window. She was trapped. She kicked herself for being such an idiot.

After a moment, one of the guards took a measured swipe at her. Catra knocked the stave aside with a heavy swing of her sword – but while she was off-balance, the other guard swept her staff low, knocking Catra to the ground. By the time she knew what had happened, there were two staves pointed at her throat. But she flung herself sideways, moving faster than their weapons, scampering out of reach.

The window was just behind her. She jumped at it, reaching for the gold frame – but she let out a yelp of surprise as she smacked into something, and stumbled onto the bench below. She looked up, and found a shimmering white force field over the window. She pounded on it, scratched at it, even bashed the pommel of the sword against it, but everything just bounced off.

Her time was up. The guards grabbed her from behind, wrestling the sword away and kicking it aside. She hissed and struggled as they took her by the wrists, but it was no use. She couldn’t break free. They pulled her to her feet and turned her around; Queen Angella stood in the doorway, her palm outstretched and surrounded by a faint white glow. She lowered her arm, and Catra heard the force field behind her dissipate.

“Take this Horde infiltrator to our prison cell,” Angella ordered, stepping to the side.

“Wait!” Glimmer protested, rushing in front of her mother once again. “I know, she was with the Horde, but she’s not anymore! She saved Thaymor! She’s here to…to help us!”

Angella narrowed her eyes. “Glimmer, we will discuss your _remarkably_ poor judgment once the prisoner is secure. Guards!”

As they led her through the door, Catra felt Bow and Glimmer’s eyes on her. But she didn’t look up from the ground. She didn’t bother struggling, either. What was the point?

She’d lost.

Glimmer watched as the guards hauled Catra away. The sight of it – the _unfairness_ of it – filled the young princess with fury.

Her mother was furious, too. That was obvious from her clenched fists, her sharp glare, the way her brow trembled. Would she send Bow away first, or get right into it?

“You _knew_ she was with the Horde?!”

That answered that.

“Yeah, we did! We captured her – and trust me, she was a huuuge pain for a while. But then she ended up saving everybody from the Horde!”

“How?” Angella demanded.

“With that!” Glimmer declared, pointing at the sword on the floor.

Angella gawked. “You expect me to believe she fought off a Horde assault, on her own, with a _sword_?”

“It’s not just a sword!” Glimmer insisted. “It’s magic – it made her super strong. She blew up tanks with it!”

Her mother looked aghast. “Glimmer, I will not be lied to!”

“It’s true, your majesty,” Bow interjected, coming to Glimmer’s side. “Catra turned into someone called ‘She-Ra’.”

Angella’s eyes widened. “She-Ra?”

“You’ve heard of her?” Glimmer asked, relieved.

“Heard of…? Glimmer, She-Ra is a fairy tale!”

The princess crossed her arms. “Well, she looked pret-ty real out there.”

Angella buried her face in her hands. “If you _are_ telling the truth, then you’ve fallen for a trick – an illusion, created to earn your trust! Simply bringing a Horde soldier to Bright Moon was a _terrible_ decision, but not even telling me…?!”

“If I had _told_ you, you would’ve just locked her up. You never trust me!”

“How can I trust you when you disobey my orders, keep secrets from me, and recklessly endanger both yourself and your kingdom?!”

“You don’t even give me a chance!” Glimmer shouted. “You just _assume_ I’m wrong about everything!”

Before her mother could reply, hurried footsteps came from down the hall. Another guard jogged into view. “Your majesty!” she called out. “We’ve received a new report from Thaymor. The General wishes to discuss it with you.”

“Oh, a report!” Glimmer said mockingly. “That sounds way more trustworthy than _me_.”

Angella replied with a look of cold fury. “Enough. We will continue this discussion tonight.”

“Wait, your majesty!” Bow called out. He grabbed the sword off the ground, and offered it to her. “You know a lot about First Ones tech. Maybe this sword can prove what happened.”

The queen looked at him for a moment. Then she exhaled. “Very well.” She took the sword, and without another word, she followed the guard down the hall, out of sight.

Glimmer waited, listening carefully, until she could no longer hear her mother’s footsteps. Then she rolled her head back and let out a long groan of frustration.

Bow let out his own quiet sigh. “That…could’ve gone better.”

“What happened?” Glimmer asked, peering at the broken mirror.

“Catra couldn’t turn into She-Ra,” Bow explained. “And…she wasn’t happy about it.”

Glimmer teleported up to her bed, lying back and looking glumly at the ceiling. “We put so much pressure on her to transform. I’ll bet we freaked her out.”

“The time limit prooobably didn’t help,” Bow admitted as he shut the door.

Glimmer winced. “And now she’s a prisoner. That’s, like, the one thing she was afraid of.”

Bow was quiet.

The princess sat upright, eyes full of determination. “We have to go talk to her.”

Bow looked up at the bed. He gulped. “You want to break into the Bright Moon prison…?”

Glimmer rolled her eyes. “Bow, we don’t have a prison! That’s just what Mom calls the spare room.”

“Oh. Huh.”

Glimmer teleported down to the floor, in front of her friend. “Catra needs to know we’re still on her side. And…we need to say we’re sorry.” She extended her hand to Bow. “So are you in?”

He hesitated for a moment. Then, with just a hint of a smile, he took her hand.

Catra had expected a long trip into the depths of the castle, but instead, after just a couple hallways, the guards came to a halt. She glanced up in time to see a pair of ornate double doors swing open. Then the guards threw her in. She caught herself on all fours, leaping quickly back towards the doors – but they slammed shut, and she bashed into them with a grunt. A moment later, the lock clicked back into place.

She turned around, dejected, rubbing her head as she slumped against the door. It was a while before she worked up the energy to take in her surroundings. She was in another circular room, wider and emptier than Glimmer’s bedroom. On the far wall was a glass mural showing a crescent moon. It was surrounded by windows in the shape of tall, thin arches, each one framed by golden trim. The walls were lined with cushions and potted plants, and there was even a shallow pond off to the left. It took her a moment to notice that the pond flowed through a gap beneath one of the windows, out to a small balcony. The gap looked big enough to fit through. Had they left her a way out?

She sprinted over excitedly, but as she shoved her face against the glass, she was quickly disappointed. The balcony housed a few plants, as well as the other half of the pond, but it didn’t lead to anywhere else. Even worse, the walls it butted up against were perfectly smooth; she wouldn’t be able to climb them. The only thing she could do from out there was jump to her death.

_Well, nice to have the option._

She prowled the room, examining the other windows. The glass wasn’t too thick. She could probably shatter it. But there was no point – the windows looked out over the same long drop as the balcony.

She finished circling the room, and found herself back at the double doors. Something caught her eye: whoever built those doors hadn’t thought to include a window. She could hide off to one side, and whenever the guards came back, she could ambush them. Sure, they’d beaten her last time – but only because she’d tried to fight with the sword, instead of relying on her claws. She wouldn’t repeat that mistake.

She walked over and leaned casually against the wall, locking her fingers together and stretching her arms. She was getting out of here yet.

_And then what?_

The thought burned away at her. She only knew of three places on Etheria, and now she was unwelcome in two of them. Only the miserable Whispering Woods were left. Was she going to wander them for the rest of her life? Could she even survive out there without the sword?

Her train of thought was interrupted by a twinkling sound and a shower of pink sparkles; she jumped as Glimmer and Bow materialized in front of her.

“Catra!” Glimmer called out, smiling. “Are you okay?”

Catra crossed her arms. “Hmph. I’m fine – no thanks to you.”

“We shouldn’t have brought you here,” Bow admitted. “We’re sorry. We just wanted to help, but…”

She scowled. “Yeah? I’d say things worked out pretty well for you.”

Glimmer gave her a confused look. “What?”

“Took you a while, but you got the sword back.”

The princess was dumbfounded. “Why are you still…Catra, this isn’t about the sword! It’s about you!”

“Oh, yeah – you got rid of me, too. It was pretty slick. I’m almost impressed.”

Bow’s eyes were full of concern. “Catra, we want to help. I promise.”

_I promise._

Painful memories came surging back, but Catra’s anger held them at bay.

“Oh, you _promise_? Wow, I didn’t know you were gonna _promise_.” She gritted her teeth. “Look, Arrow Boy. Your girlfriend here? She can teleport. So if you wanted to help me, I wouldn’t _be_ here.”

“Will you listen for once?!” Glimmer exclaimed. “We’re not here to gloat, and we’re not trying to get to rid of you! We’re gonna convince Mom to let you go. We just need to prove that you saved Thaymor!”

The memories came again, and this time, they overwhelmed Catra. She saw buildings in flames. She felt a stun gun in her back. Metal cuffs closing around her wrist. Her heart pounded, and her breathing grew shallow. She dug her claws painfully into her scalp as Adora stared at her, teary-eyed.

“Catra…?” Bow said.

She looked at him, eyes wide and frantic. Then she turned to the princess – her only way out. She pounced, grabbing Glimmer by the leotard.

“Get me out of here!” she screamed.

The princess tried to protest, but Catra ignored her. Instead, she bared one of her claws, holding it up for Glimmer to see.

“Teleport me out, right now, or I’ll–”

Someone grabbed her wrist. She turned, and found Bow, fire in his eyes. For a few seconds, they stared at each other. Then, his words slow and even, Bow said: “I know you’re scared. But that doesn’t give you the right to hurt Glimmer.”

Another few seconds passed. Finally, Catra let out a cry of frustration, and released the princess. Bow, in turn, released her.

“Fine,” Catra spat. “Go! Get out of here!”

Glimmer looked at her for a long while. Then she turned away.

“Come on, Bow.”

She grabbed her friend’s shoulder, and the two vanished in a puff of sparkles.

Catra was alone once again.

Queen Angella slipped into the briefing room, still carrying the sword. Her general was seated at the far end of the table, staring intently at a tracker pad; Angella took her own seat, placing the sword gingerly on the table, before clearing her throat.

“Your majesty!” the general exclaimed, quickly setting down her pad. “My apologies. I didn’t hear you come in.”

The queen held up her hand. “No need to apologize. Now, you have a report to discuss?”

“Yes, your majesty – one of our scouts has returned from Thaymor. The Horde attack came as we predicted, and, unfortunately, our warning failed to reach the village in time. But despite heavy damage, it seems they were able to repel the attack.”

Angella blinked. “On their own?”

“Not exactly.” The general paused, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “The villagers claim to have been saved by…She-Ra.”

Angella sighed. “Of course.” She thought for a moment. “Did the villagers mention any sort of alter-ego?”

The other woman looked at her, surprised. “Yes, they did. Apparently, when the fight was over, She-Ra turned into a girl with red clothes, long hair, and cat ears. How did you…?”

“That girl is here, at Bright Moon. And she is from the Horde. I imprisoned her.”

The general was quick to catch on. “Then you think this is all a trick?”

“Yes, I do,” the queen replied firmly. “I believe it is an attempt to place a Horde spy in a position of trust.”

If she was right, then their enemies were actively taking advantage of her daughter’s naiveté. The thought made Angella want to scream. Desperate for a distraction, she turned her focus to the sword, examining it in greater detail than before. She’d seen depictions of She-Ra’s legendary weapon, and this was an impressive forgery. Everything looked right, down to the markings on the blade, and the brilliant blue gem set in the hilt. That was supposedly a runestone.

Maybe there was a way to check? She held her hand over the hilt, channeling a tiny bit of magical energy into her palm, until a white glow appeared. She gasped: the gem had begun to glow the same color.

That didn’t mean anything. Perhaps Horde technology was even more advanced than they knew, or perhaps this was the work of the Horde’s feared sorceress.

Or, perhaps, Angella was fooling herself.

She lowered her hand, watching as the glow faded from the sword’s gem – no, from its runestone.

“Your majesty…?” the general asked uncertainly.

The queen sighed. “I may have spoken too soon. If you would…I’d like to hear this report in full.”

Glimmer paced back and forth across her bedroom. Her fists were clenched, and with each step, her scowl grew wider.

“Can you _believe_ her?!” she finally exclaimed. “We’ve been trying _so hard_ to help her. And what does she do? She attacks me!”

Bow was busy brushing shards of glass off her desk, into a bag. But he stopped for a moment, looking up at her. “I think…something happened at Thaymor.”

Glimmer cocked her head. “Bow, I know something happened. I was there, remember?”

“I’m not talking about She-Ra,” Bow explained as he resumed sweeping. “I think she ran into her friend from the Horde. Adora. She’s said the name a couple times – and this last time, she sounded _really_ bitter. She said they weren’t even friends anymore."

Glimmer scoffed. “Who cares if she had a fight with her Horde friend?”

“She does.”

The princess put her hands on her hips. “Oh, and that means she’s allowed to attack me?”

“Of _course_ not,” Bow said reassuringly, inspecting the desk one last time before rising to his feet. “But imagine you had to leave your home forever, and on your way out, you got into a huge fight with your best friend.”

Glimmer slumped down onto the bench by the window, letting out a long groan of frustration. “Alright, fine. I guess I’d feel pretty terrible.”

“And now she thinks we betrayed her, too.”

Glimmer mulled that over for a while. Bow tied up the bag, set it down next to the desk, and came over, sitting on the other side of the bench. He rested his head on his hand, lost in thought.

A minute passed in silence. Then they heard a series of gentle knocks on the door.

_“Glimmer?”_

Glimmer groaned softly. Her mother was back. She pushed herself to her feet and trudged over to the door; she opened it slowly, crossing her arms.

“Mom.”

Her mother looked calm, at least. Not happy, but calm. And she was still holding the sword. She raised it slightly, her eyes dwelling on it for a moment before turning to Glimmer. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Glimmer huffed, stepping back.

Angella entered the room, closing the door behind her. She faced her daughter. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate. Then she spoke. “This…is the Sword of Protection. The legendary weapon of She-Ra.”

“Yeah. That’s what I’ve been _trying_ to tell you.”

“And yet,” she continued, “it was in the hands of a Horde soldier. How can that be?”

“I dunno,” Glimmer replied. “She had it when we found her.”

Bow spoke up. “Last night, I picked up some First Ones tech on my tracker pad, and we went into the woods to find it. But then the signal started moving, and when we caught up, we found Catra. I guess she got to it first.”

“And became She-Ra?” Angella asked.

“Uh…eventually,” Bow answered. “A lot of stuff happened.”

Angella gazed at the sword again. “The legends claim that She-Ra would return to us in our hour of need – that she would restore the balance of Etheria. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps not.”

Glimmer squeezed her fist tight. “Ugggh, seriously? You _still_ don’t believe me?”

“I believe you,” her mother assured her. “But She-Ra or not, I fear that girl presents too great a risk.”

“What risk? She already fought off a Horde army!”

Irritation crept onto her mother’s face. “Even _if_ she has truly renounced the Horde – which is still uncertain – it does not prove that she’s our ally.”

“What?! It totally does!”

Her mother raised her voice. “How do you think she became a Horde soldier? Did she volunteer – willingly join in dealing death and destruction?”

“What? No!”

“Then she is one of their conscripts, indoctrinated from a young age, made into a ruthless killing machine.”

“I–”

“She may have changed her allegiance, but she did not change _what she is_. We may sympathize with her, but we must not lower our guard.”

“So, what?!” Glimmer demanded, stamping her foot. “You’re just gonna keep her locked up forever?!”

“If that’s what it takes to protect us, then yes.”

“That’s not fair! It’s not her fault if the Horde raised her – I mean, she did everything she could to get away from them! You can’t punish her for that!”

“I can do whatever is–”

“Why are you so afraid of her?!” Glimmer shouted.

“Because I don’t want to lose you!”

They were silent for a moment. Glimmer stared. Angella turned away.

“The Horde has already taken your father,” she said quietly. “If I were to lose you too…I…”

She trailed off, blinking away tears.

Glimmer wrestled with her thoughts, unsure of what to do. But finally, she steeled herself, stepped forward, and grabbed her mother’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Mom…I’m sorry. I know going into the woods last night was reckless. Bow and I barely escaped from Thaymor – there were bots everywhere, and I was too weak to teleport us out. But Catra saved us. She pulled the bots away and wrecked them all. Maybe she had her own reasons – fine, whatever. But if she hadn’t been there…”

They were quiet again. Seconds passed by. Then Angella chuckled softly.

“To think. My daughter owes her life to a Horde soldier.”

“Your majesty,” Bow interjected, “she’s not a Horde soldier. Not anymore.”

The queen considered that for a moment. Then she wiped her eyes, and turned sternly towards Glimmer. “So. You wish for me to free this girl? To welcome her into the Rebellion?”

Glimmer nodded.

“I would hold you responsible for her actions. And I would expect you to vouch for her character.”

It took Glimmer a moment to realize what was happening. But when she did, she grinned excitedly, nodding again.

Angella waited a moment longer. Then she gave a slight smile. “Very well. If you two would accompany me…we have a prisoner to release.”

Catra was curled up on one of the cushions along the wall, gazing at the nearby pond. Her eyes were glued to one of the many lily pads that floated on the calm water. In the last half-hour, it hadn’t moved. She hated that lily pad. Every now and then, she considered getting up and tearing it to shreds; but that would be a mercy. So instead, she left it stuck there.

From the other side of the room, she heard the click of the double doors being unlocked. She glanced over as they swung open, and a pair of guards stepped into the room, turning away from one another and assuming positions by the door. Queen Angella followed them in, carrying the sword, with Glimmer and Bow right behind her. The guards shut the doors behind them and returned to attention.

Catra sat slowly up, resting an elbow on her knee as the trio came to a halt in the center of the room. She couldn’t help but wonder why they were all here. Were Bow and Glimmer really part of the interrogation? It made a kind of sense; they certainly had the most intel on her. She glowered at them.

The queen spoke calmly. “Catra…I must apologize for your imprisonment.”

Catra didn’t reply.

“Please understand, my kingdom has suffered greatly from the Horde. It is difficult for me to place my trust in someone who once held allegiance to them. But now I have heard, from my soldiers and my daughter, about your actions at Thaymor.”

The more the queen talked, the deeper Catra’s claws dug into her palm.

“You turned against your former allies, and saved countless lives…including Glimmer’s. Whatever my misgivings, I cannot ignore such heroism.”

She held up the blade, examining it.

“I never thought She-Ra was anything more than a myth…but now I hold her sword in my hands.” For a moment, the queen hesitated. Then she offered it. “I believe it is yours.”

Catra stared at Angella, then at Bow and Glimmer. After a while, she asked simply: “What?”

“Told you we’d get you out,” Glimmer said smugly.

Catra looked at the sword. She remembered the power she’d felt as She-Ra. She remembered how the sword had rejected her. She remembered Adora’s look of betrayal. Her hands were trembling.

But if she waited any longer, Queen Angella might change her mind; or, worse, Catra might lose her nerve. So she buried her doubts, jumped to her feet, and grabbed it. It felt cold in her hands.

The queen watched her closely before continuing with her speech. “Though it seems impossible, I have chosen to believe that you are the hero of legend. And so, I ask you now: join the Rebellion. The Horde is advancing all across Etheria, and there are many in need of your aid.”

The room went silent. Angella looked at Catra expectantly. She looked back for a long while. Then, gradually, she began to laugh.

“Is…is something funny?” Angella asked, flustered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…I _really_ thought this place might be different.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Catra narrowed her eyes, and her glee vanished. “You think I’m worthless, so you treat me like garbage – then you realize I’m _She-Ra_ , and oh, suddenly I’m free to go! It was all just a misunderstanding! And hey, while I’m here, could I win the war for you?” She laughed again. “I’m impressed! Really. I wasn’t sure you people had it in you.”

“I have already apologized for your imprisonment,” Angella said warily. “And you oppose the Horde…do you not? You could do so more effectively with allies.”

“To be honest, I don’t really _care_ what the Horde does. Just as long as they stay out of my way.”

“But they’re going to come after you,” Bow reminded her. “That’s why you wanted to come here.”

Catra scoffed. “I didn’t ‘want’ to come here. You two practically dragged me along.”

“Come on,” Glimmer said, smiling weakly. “We could throw a party! Parties are fun, right?”

“Yeah, no. I’m done with this place.”

“So, what?” Glimmer asked, her annoyance visible. “You’re just gonna wander back into the woods?”

Catra winced. “I’ll…figure something out! It can’t be worse than staying here with _you_.”

Glimmer raised her arms in exasperation. “Why are you such a jerk?! Bow and I have tried _so hard_ to be friends with you!”

“Friends?! How stupid do you think I am?! This,” she said, pointing to the sword in her hand, “is the only thing you care about. But I’ve got news for you: it’s mine. She-Ra’s mine. And you’re _never_ getting her.”

Catra leveled the sword at the three of them. The guards at the door took a step forward, readying their weapons; Angella took a nervous step back. Bow gave Catra his awful, infuriating look of pity, while Glimmer just gritted her teeth.

“Catra,” Bow pleaded, “you’re already free. You don’t need to do this.”

She was ready to tear into his little above-it-all act, to call him out for trying to get into her head, to call him all sorts of terrible things. But before she could, Glimmer teleported next to her and grabbed her shoulder. There was a flash of pink – when it faded, the two of them were on a grassy field, nestled between the walls of the castle and the Whispering Woods.

“There!” Glimmer screamed, shoving Catra away. “You’re free to go! You can take your stupid sword, and…and Bow and I will never bother you again!”

Catra didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think, or how to feel. Glimmer didn’t give her time to sort any of that out. With one final glare, the princess vanished in another cloud of sparkles.

Catra was alone.


	4. Razz

Adora watched the last transport pull into the loading bay. Its engine went quiet, and its rear door opened; a line of weary troops emerged, carrying their helmets, looking away from the harsh lights in the ceiling. The sound of boots on metal echoed through the room.

She counted them all, adding twelve marks to the tally on her clipboard. That was it – her troops were all accounted for. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It was the only silver lining of a mission gone terribly wrong.

As the soldiers walked past the line of parked vehicles, some of them nodded to her. But she buried herself in her clipboard, pretending not to notice. She couldn’t bear to face them. She couldn’t bear to face anyone. She just wanted to curl up in a corner and be alone.

But she wasn’t alone, even after her troops had left. There were still a handful of mechanics circling the transports, opening access panels and attaching cables. She wasn’t about to break down in front of them. So she grabbed her helmet off a pile of crates, and marched out after the soldiers.

Her footsteps echoed loudly through the metal corridors. Her body armor was heavy and uncomfortable. She passed by a handful of cadets, who gave her furtive, worried looks – they knew something was wrong, but they didn’t know what.

They’d know soon enough.

She arrived at the door to the locker room. There were voices coming from inside, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She could only imagine. Her feet felt like lead. She had to take a moment and gather her courage before she could step inside.

The soldiers from the last transport were all there, busy unfastening their armor. She kept her head down and slipped over to her locker, removing her armor as quickly and quietly as she could, trying her best not to listen to them.

“…heard it was actually that cadet we were supposed to find! Cat-something.”

“That’s ridiculous! What kind of cadet turns into a princess?”

Adora had the chestplate off now, but the arms were giving her trouble.

“It sure _looked_ like Catra. Ears and everything.”

“Is it true she and the Force Captain were–”

She wrenched off one of her gauntlets, but lost her grip – it fell to the floor with a _clang_. The room fell silent. She could feel the eyes on her. They all knew. It was her fault, and they all knew. Her breathing grew quick and short.

She didn’t turn around. She didn’t say anything. What _could_ she say? No, she unfastened the rest of her armor, shoved it into her locker, pulled on her uniform, and hurried out. As the door slid shut behind her, she let out a long, slow breath.

The rumors were already starting. In a day or two, they would spread to every corner of the Fright Zone. Even the armorers and prison guards would be talking about how Catra had gone rogue…and how Adora had let it happen.

It didn’t feel real. It felt like Catra might come down the corridor at any moment. They would hug. She would tease Adora about falling for her little trick. Things would go back to normal.

But it _was_ real. Catra was gone, and Adora had to find a way to live with that.

Or at least, she had to try.

Catra hated a lot of things, but there was a special, visceral hate she reserved for just a few. The water…stuck-up queens…and, most of all, the Whispering Woods.

There had been a certain logic to coming back here. After all, she’d found the sword in the woods – not to mention that First Ones ruin, the one with the She-Ra mural. If she looked hard enough, she might find another ruin, and it might give her the answers she sought.

That was the idea.

In practice, she’d been wandering aimlessly for what felt like an hour. She had even started carrying the sword in hand, hoping for a vision, or even just a vague feeling about where to go. But she got nothing. The sword was dead.

Maybe it really _had_ rejected her. Maybe all it wanted was its so-called rightful owner.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen – not now, not ever. The sword was hers, whether it liked it or not.

She gave it another glare, but stopped in her tracks: the gem in the hilt was glowing, pulsing with bright blue light. It was finally doing something? But…what did that mean? Maybe it was done recharging, or something? She didn’t want to get her hopes up again, but…

“For the honor of Grayskull?”

Nothing happened.

She groaned and slumped against a tree, clutching her face. She didn’t get it. If she wasn’t good enough for the sword, why had it _ever_ worked?!

Maybe it had finally figured out she wasn’t Adora. Or maybe it had just realized how pathetic she was. She’d screwed things up with the Horde, and with their enemies, too. Now everyone hated her…even the sword hated her. She wanted to hit herself, claw at herself, punish herself for being such a failure. For being so weak.

Shadow Weaver had been right.

But in the midst of her drowning, she heard something: a distant, pleasant humming. She listened to it, latching onto it, trying to get her breathing back under control. It took some time, but gradually, the dark haze faded away. She was back to reality. Trembling.

She slapped herself on the cheek.

_Focus._

The Whispering Woods had a habit of catching her off guard. This time would be different. She stood up straight, slung the sword across her back, and clambered up the tree behind her, perching in one of the branches. Her ears twitched – the sound was coming from off to the left. She hopped gracefully from tree to tree, careful not to make a sound as she drew closer to the source of the noise. It was just ahead now. She crawled cautiously along one last branch, and looked down.

Below her, in the gap between some unusually large trunks, there was a small open area. The near side was flat, but the far side was dominated by a curious hill with a steep side, one that was covered in thin, tangled roots, and what looked like giant lily pads. There was a thin plume of smoke coming from the hill. It took Catra a moment to notice the narrow chimney that was its source, and a moment longer to spot the fabric-covered doorway carved into the hillside. This was a home.

A small figure emerged. She was wrinkled and hunched, with thick glasses and a mess of white hair that reached nearly to the ground. She wore a simple magenta frock, and in her hands was a wooden broom. She set to work sweeping at the dirt, and as she did, she hummed a tune to herself.

Catra relaxed; no monsters or rebels this time. Just an old woman. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Did you hear something?”

Catra froze, standing perfectly still. The woman had paused her work, and was now looking suspiciously around the clearing, muttering to herself.

“Yes, I did too…who’s there?”

She scanned the clearing a while longer, but evidently, she found nothing. With a shrug, she went back to sweeping. Catra was just about ready to move on – but suddenly, the woman turned, looking straight up at her.

“A-ha!” she declared, pointing. “There you are, Loo-kee!”

With a surge of adrenaline, Catra stumbled backwards, trying to escape – only to smack head-first into the tree trunk behind her. She flailed, but found nothing to grab; with a screech, she fell to the forest floor, landing in a pile of leaves, struggling to her feet and baring her claws.

The old woman regarded her with surprise.

“Oh, where did you come from?” she asked. “Did you see Loo-kee?”

Catra paused. Realization set in. This old hag hadn’t seen anything – she was just _crazy_.

Catra relaxed her claws and groaned. On the one hand, she was safe. On the other, she couldn’t believe what a fool she’d made of herself. Her cheeks burned as she pulled leaves out of her hair.

“Wait a minute…” The woman adjusted her glasses. Her eyes lit up. “Mara, dearie – is that you? You look so different! Did you do something with your ears?”

Catra cocked her head. “Uh…”

“Oh, never mind, never mind. Let’s get going! No time to waste.”

With that, the woman ducked back through the doorway, and left Catra alone. She really ought to stay that way. This crazy old lady wasn’t going to help her figure out the sword.

She turned to leave, but the woman quickly emerged, two woven baskets in hand. “Come along, Mara dearie!” she insisted, trying to press one of them into Catra’s hands – but with a snort, she slapped it to the ground.

“Hey! I don’t know who ‘Mara’ is, but _I_ don’t have time for this.”

The woman stroked her chin. “No…you don’t know Madame Razz, do you? And you are certainly not my Mara. How did such a rude girl end up with the sword…?”

Catra’s hair stood on end. “The sword?! Do you _know_ something about–”

“I know all kinds of things, dearie! For example, I know that there are berries to be picked. And, since this is the wrong time for my Mara, I suppose you will have to do.” She offered Catra the basket again. When had she picked it back up?

“I don’t care about your stupid berries–”

“The berries are not for you, silly!” Razz replied cheerfully. “Now enough wasting time. We can talk along the way!”

Catra glared. She didn’t like being toyed with. But maybe, just maybe, playing along would get her the answers she needed.

Reluctantly, she took the basket.

The old woman beamed. “Come, come! This way.” She scampered off, zooming across the open ground. How was she so fast? Catra followed at a quick jog, but it still took her a moment to catch up.

“Alright – we’re going to pick berries,” she said, struggling not to grit her teeth. “Now _tell me_ about the _sword_.”

“What could Madame Razz tell you about your own sword?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! You know about this thing – tell me how to use it!”

They went up a steep incline. At the top, a thick root blocked the path; but the old woman flung herself over it like it was nothing. Catra leaped after her.

“Oh, Mara, dearie–”

“Will you stop calling me that?!”

Razz didn’t reply, or even acknowledge the demand. Instead, she disappeared through a thick curtain of vines. With a grunt, Catra tried to slash her way through with the sword, but she did little more than bat the vines around. Typical. She switched to her claws, tearing a path with a few quick swipes.

She stepped through, and found herself in a clearing. It was big enough for a small village, but aside from some rubble, there was only one building: a tower, tall and imposing, wrapped in gnarled roots, and…strangely familiar.

She recognized the geometric lines carved into its side. This was a First Ones ruin. Yet there was more to it than that – somehow, she had seen this specific tower before. It had been different. Newer, shinier, not choked by foliage. And there had been something else, too. Something that was missing now.

Well, she certainly didn’t remember an old lady rocketing up the side. She cocked her head. How was Razz climbing so fast?

“This is the best place to pick fresh berries!” Razz shouted down as Catra approached the building. She searched the smooth stone walls for a handhold, something to grab, but all she found was the roots. She could climb those, of course – but Razz wasn’t using them. Razz was going straight up the wall. Maybe there was something a little higher up?

Catra turned her gaze upwards, and found the old woman halfway up the tower. But even higher, something was happening; at the very top, there was a bright light, and a green glow was creeping downwards from it.

Suddenly, the old lady cried out and lost her grip. For a moment, Catra watched her fall, frozen in place. She would hit soon. She would die. There was no time to think – Catra dropped her basket and leaped forward, slamming into Razz, breaking her fall. They both tumbled to the ground.

Catra took a moment to catch her breath. Then, annoyed, she shoved the old lady aside, and climbed to her feet, brushing off dirt. Next to her, the old woman practically bounced up.

“Oh-ho, dearie me! That was quite a tumble, eh?”

Catra seethed. “Are you _trying_ to get yourself…”

But she trailed off as the green light from the tower enveloped the entire clearing. Was this some kind of defense system? No – the light began to shape itself into buildings, forming an entire holographic complex around the tower. And that wasn’t all. When Catra looked up, she found a strange, violet sky filled with little white pinpricks.

That was it. She had seen this place in a vision, and in that vision, the sky had been full of these pinpricks. “Stars,” she muttered. Had she heard that word before, or had it been burned into her mind? She couldn’t remember.

“We used to come here to look at the stars,” Razz said, gazing up at them. “Do you remember, Mara? They’re all gone now. What happened to the stars?”

Catra stared at her. Had she turned on the projector on purpose? Was she trying to tell Catra something? Why were the stars so important? Her gaze was drawn back to them. They reminded her of home – of the skyline she’d spent so long gazing at. Had the entire sky once been so beautiful?

She quickly shook her head. This wasn’t the time for mushy nonsense. She had one goal, and one only: learn to use the sword. If the stars couldn’t help her do that, then they were useless.

She turned to Razz, and made her demand again. “Tell me how to use the sword.”

Razz looked at her blankly, popping a few berries into her mouth. She could obviously hear Catra. She obviously knew something. Why did she have to make this so difficult…?

“Uggh. What do you want from me?!”

Razz pressed Catra’s empty basket back into her hands, and smiled.

“Berries!”

Then she trotted off towards the woods, and left Catra to fume.

The lights of the Fright Zone twinkled in the late afternoon smog. Adora stared at them, as she had many times before – but this time, she didn’t see them. Not really. She was too lost in memory.

The roof had always been her little refuge, a place to be away from the bustle below. Hers…and Catra’s. They’d met so many times at this balcony. They’d teased one another, comforted one another, sometimes fought with one another. But they’d always made up in the end.

Always.

Coming here had been a mistake.

She sank to her knees, crossing her arms along the metal railing. She set her head down as she began to tear up.

Why? Why had Catra left?

Adora knew her friend had been angry – at Shadow Weaver, and at her. Maybe if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her new duties…if she’d gone to see Catra sooner…

But Catra hadn’t just been angry. Well, that first time in the woods, maybe. But at Thaymor? No. She’d been desperate. Afraid.

Adora winced, remembering the moment – the fear in her heart as the other girl began to panic. It was an active combat zone, crawling with rebel troops, surrounded by those nightmarish woods. They’d already taken Catra from her once. She couldn’t let it happen again.

So she drew the stun gun, and she pulled the trigger. The scream…the pleading…the fear in her friend’s eyes. Fear of _her_. She tried to harden her heart – after all, she was doing the right thing. But, in the end, she couldn’t face what she’d done. She couldn’t face Catra.

She turned away.

The tears came faster now.

What was she going to do? There was no way to hide the truth – not with rumors already going around. Soon everyone would hear that Catra was a traitor. The Horde would never take her back.

But Adora wouldn’t give in. There had to be _something_ she could do to help! Maybe her superiors could overlook Catra’s crimes, if they knew how powerful she was with that sword in hand.

The sword. Just thinking about it made Adora shiver. It wasn’t just the burning memories, images of brilliant shockwaves lashing out at her troops. No. It was deeper than that.

Adora remembered how _strange_ she’d felt when they first found it. It had reached out to her…whispered into her thoughts…tried to draw her in. Her mind had gone blank, with only her friend’s voice pulling her back to reality. What would that sword have done to her, if not for Catra?

Her eyes widened – how had she not realized it sooner? It was the sword.

The sword was pushing Catra to become that strange princess. It was influencing her. Confusing her. Controlling her. She must have fought it – after all, she’d come to Adora, instead of immediately attacking the Horde troops. But then Adora had…well…failed her. And so, Catra had given in.

She was still out there. Still under the sway of that awful thing. She wasn’t just a danger to others – she was a danger to herself, too. And it was all Adora’s fault.

She had to make things right.

Saving Catra might mean abandoning her duty to the Horde. So be it. Her friend needed her, and that came first. It didn’t matter how long she had to search, or how dangerous it would be. It didn’t even matter that she might have to fight her brainwashed friend, and all the power of that wretched sword.

It certainly wouldn’t be easy. But for Catra, she would do it – or die trying.

“Adora.”

It was Shadow Weaver’s voice; Adora leapt to attention. She took just a moment to wipe her tears away, then turned and saluted her commander. The sorceress looked down at her, her mask betraying little. Her voice, though, was soft and warm.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“I…”

Adora trailed off. How could Shadow Weaver say that? She _had_ to be hard on herself.

“This was only one mission. There will be many more opportunities to prove yourself.”

“What? No, it’s not that, it’s…Catra.”

Shadow Weaver leaned in, placing a hand on Adora’s cheek. She brushed aside a loose strand of hair. “I’m sorry you couldn’t find her. But she can take care of herself…she’s quite good at it.”

Her commander didn’t know yet. Of course not. It was Adora’s responsibility to tell her, ASAP. But…she wasn’t going to. Not yet. Not until she figured out her next move.

After a moment of silence, the sorceress sighed. “Lord Hordak has requested a personal debriefing,” she announced.

Lord Hordak? Now? What was Adora going to say?! She struggled to keep her breathing in check.

“Come now, there’s no need to be frightened. Every Force Captain has suffered defeat at one point or another…and Hordak is not so foolish as to throw away your talent. Now, take a moment to collect yourself. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

As Shadow Weaver floated back inside, Adora looked over to the left, at a familiar metal platform atop a spindly tower of machinery. When Catra was in a really bad mood, she would go up there to sulk…but every time, Adora would get her grappling hook and follow. She would cheer Catra up. Things would go back to normal. Maybe…just maybe…she could do it again?

But first, she had to survive Lord Hordak.

She’d lost Razz. Again.

It wasn’t that the old woman was fast. Catra was faster, at least when not tangled up in vines. The problem was that every time Razz got the slightest lead, she would duck under a tree root, or vanish into a row of bushes. And then Catra had to wander around in circles, trying to pick out the scent of a crazy old hag who – surprise – smelled just like the forest.

At least she was getting good at it. This time, it only took a couple aimless circles to pick up on the subtle hint of berries. She followed the smell to the edge of a thicket, and clawed her way past the foliage. But it was dense; brambles snapped and scraped at her as she shoved her way through.

She stumbled out the other side, barely staying on her feet. She brushed herself off, grimacing as she spotted a few new cuts in her top. Great. The woods were ruining her clothes, too.

She looked up, and found Razz hunched over by a tree. She was casually plucking berries from a bush, humming to herself. She looked up and smiled as Catra stomped over.

“Keep up, Mara dearie! Or else you’ll get lost in these woods.”

Catra’s eye twitched. She threw her basket to the ground and stamped her foot, crushing it. “Oh look! My basket broke! Now I can’t collect berries.”

Razz frowned. “You know, dearie, I made that myself.”

Catra flashed her a grin. “Good! You’ve been wasting _my_ time, so I’m happy to return the favor.”

The woman gave her a dour look. “And what is it you want Madame Razz to tell you so badly?”

Really? She needed to hear it again?

“How…do I _use_ …the _sword_?” Catra hissed.

Razz chuckled. “You already know how to do that!”

“It stopped working!”

“The sword did not stop working! The problem…is in _here_ ,” she said, reaching upwards and tapping a finger to Catra’s forehead.

“Oh, so I’m not good enough for it. Great. Fantastic.”

Razz tutted and shook her head. “The sword this, the sword that – always the sword with you! She-Ra is not a sword. If you cannot turn into her, you should not be asking some old lady about swords!”

“Yeah?! Well who _should_ I ask?!”

“Madame Razz already told you!”

What kind of answer was that? Catra was ready to give a scathing reply, but suddenly, she froze, ears at attention. Through the rustling of the leaves, and the chirping of the birds, she could make out another sound. A familiar one. The hum of a hover vehicle, coming from somewhere to the right.

Razz cocked her head. She began to speak, but Catra shoved a hand over her mouth.

“Shut up and stay here.”

Before Razz could reply, Catra scampered up the nearby tree. She began crossing the forest, following the sound, staying alert for danger. She was already getting close – no, _it_ was getting close, and by the sound of it, going pretty fast. Up ahead, the trees came to an end; Catra stalked carefully to the edge of the canopy.

Below her was a wide dirt road, with a gray hover transport riding along it – it moved quickly at first, but it was slowing down. Why? She looked at the road ahead, and found a dozen people dressed in skimpy pastels. They stared at the approaching transport, and even from here, Catra could see the fear in their eyes. Some of them were no more than children, hugging tightly at their parents. One of the women held a baby in her arms.

The vehicle stopped in front of the group, and then turned around. But it wasn’t leaving. Its rear hatch swung open, hitting the ground with a dull _thud_ ; armored Horde soldiers emerged, wielding stun guns and batons. They barked orders, and the civilians raised their arms – all except the mother, who clutched her baby anxiously.

“It is sad, isn’t it?”

Razz?! Catra nearly shrieked. She spun around, eyes wide and tail frazzled, glaring at the old lady who had snuck up behind her. But Razz didn’t seem to notice. She just watched the scene as it played out below, with sorrow in her eyes.

Catra turned again. The soldiers were pulling shackles from their belts, cuffing the adults first. Her eyes lingered on the baby as a soldier pulled it from its mother.

“The child will be a prisoner all her life,” Razz said quietly.

“What? No. The Horde doesn’t keep kids locked up.”

“Not all prisons have walls, dearie.”

Catra bristled at the implication. _She_ hadn’t been a prisoner. She’d stuck around because she’d wanted to!

Right?

The baby was starting to cry. It wouldn’t be the last time. Catra’s earliest memories were of crying. Of course, this one would be beneath Shadow Weaver’s notice. The sorceress would delegate tormenting her to someone else. Maybe a Force Captain.

Maybe Adora.

After all, if Adora could explain away all those years that Catra had suffered, then she could explain away anything. It would be her ‘duty’! It would be ‘for the best’! She would be this kid’s tormentor, and think she was a hero for it.

And no one would stop her. There was no one who cared, and could see the truth, and had the power to intervene.

No one.

Catra could feel the sword again. Not just on her back – in her mind.

She drew it, and felt a familiar clarity, as if a weight were lifting from her shoulders. Her awful memories faded, replaced by newfound conviction. Yes, she had suffered at the hands of the Horde. And yes, Adora had failed to help her.

But she was _better_ than Adora.

“For the honor…of Grayskull.”

This time, the transformation felt different. As her body turned to light – as she grew taller and stronger – as the outfit appeared around her, and her hair changed color – she could still think. Before, She-Ra had taken over. Now, she was still herself, only with She-Ra’s limitless power.

The world came back into focus. She found herself balanced precariously on the branch; she wasn’t used to She-Ra’s weight, or her center of gravity, and certainly not her restrictive boots.

But that was alright! She didn’t need to sneak around anymore.

Catra leapt from the tree, landing at the edge of the road on one knee. She heard gasps. She looked up – they were all staring at her, awestruck. After a moment, one of the soldiers yelled “Form up!” The rest quickly formed a line. As if the five of them were any match for her!

But they were only holding weapons. Where was the kid? Catra scanned the crowd, and found the baby back in her mother’s cuffed hands. Good. That would make this much easier.

Catra rose to her full height, towering over the soldiers. One by one, they each took a step back, and she took a step forward, circling to the left, driving them away from the civilians. Her heroics would look a lot less impressive if she got any of the witnesses killed.

When the soldiers were far enough away, she leveled the sword at them and smirked.

“You might wanna run,” she teased.

The leader started to order an attack, but Catra flicked her sword across the ground, releasing a magical shockwave that send them tumbling. Some of them dropped their weapons, and Catra darted over, crushing a baton beneath her foot, and slicing through two stun guns with her sword.

The disarmed soldiers gawked at her a moment, then scurried away towards the transport. But there were two climbing defiantly to their feet, still hanging on to their crackling batons. Catra swiped the ground again, releasing another shockwave – but this time, the troopers planted their feet and leaned in, managing to stay upright.

“You’ll have to do better than that, princess!” one of them taunted.

Catra smirked again.

She sauntered forward, and this time, the soldiers held their ground, readying their batons. But they failed to appreciate the reach of a seven-foot woman with a sword; they were caught off guard when she swung the flat of it around like a club, batting them both aside.

She turned to the gawking civilians, eager to brag – but then, from behind, she heard the hover engine roar to life. She turned, and found the vehicle turning to face her, dragging its rear door along the ground. She cocked her head as the helmeted driver came into view. Did he really think he could catch her with that lumbering thing?

But as the transport lurched towards her, she heard cries of fear from behind – _directly_ behind. She grimaced as the realization set in: she actually had to _stop_ this thing.

She dropped the sword and stretched her arms out towards the approaching vehicle. She had no idea if she was strong enough to do this, but she didn’t have any better ideas. As it accelerated, she closed her eyes and turned away – it slammed into her palms, and she grunted, struggled to keep her arms straight. Metal shrieked; she slid backwards, heels digging into the dirt.

But then the engine sputtered, and the transport stopped pushing. A moment later, there was a dull _thud_. Then everything was quiet. She felt something pushing down at her arms.

With some hesitation, Catra opened her eyes. The front end of the transport was a crumpled mess; her arms were plunged into it, all the way to the elbows. She stared for a moment. Then, with some difficulty, she wrenched her arms free, taking bits of the ruined engine with her. The front of the transport dropped to the ground with another _thud_. She’d been holding it up.

She stepped back, staring at the vehicle, and at her hands.

_Whoa._

Then she noticed the driver staring at her. She gave him a smug little smile, and crossed her arms.

He threw open the cabin door and stumbled out. It took him a few attempts to get back onto his feet. But just as he managed it, a little round figure leaped down from above – it was Madame Razz. She whacked him a few times with a broom, and he ran away, screaming in terror as the old woman yelled triumphantly.

What about the others? Catra circled the vehicle, and found the rest of the Horde squad fleeing down the road alongside him.

She’d done it.

Catra walked back to the civilians. They were whispering among themselves, watching her with a mixture of reverence and fear. As she picked her sword off the ground, a few of them backed away.

“Hey, take it easy,” she snapped. “Unless you want those cuffs to stay on.”

They didn’t. Eventually, they offered her their arms, and she cut off the handcuffs one-by-one. When she finished with the last set, she took particular pleasure in crushing the cuffs in her fist.

As she examined the crumpled metal, the woman with the baby approached her.

“Thank you, She-Ra. If you hadn’t come, I…I don’t…”

“Hey, whatever – you’re just lucky I was around. Why are you wandering through the woods, anyway?”

The woman winced. “We’re fleeing the Horde. They’ve set up camp on the outskirts of Plumeria…they cut us off from the rest of the kingdom. Our only hope is to reach Bright Moon, but now that the Horde is operating in the Whispering Woods…” She whimpered. “Nowhere’s safe anymore.”

Her baby began to cry again.

“Shhh,” she said, putting on a false smile. “It’s alright. We’re safe now, thanks to She-Ra. And her…curious friend,” she added, looking over at Razz – who was yelling a martial challenge at the empty transport, waving her broom menacingly.

Catra winced. “I’m not with her.”

After that, the refugees took some time to calm their nerves. A few more of them thanked her. They gave her some halfway-decent fruit, apologizing that they didn’t have more to offer. Then, finally, they went on their way – this time sticking close to the trees, ready to duck away at a moment’s notice. Good. Maybe they were learning.

She glanced over at Razz. The old woman had evidently claimed victory over the transport, and she had her basket back in hand. She met Catra’s eyes with a cheery smile.

“Perhaps you are not so different from my Mara!”

“Uh-huh.” Catra didn’t pay much attention. She’d finally figured it out. Razz wasn’t some mystical oracle…she was a senile old woman who happened to know somebody else with a sword. It was, frankly, a little embarrassing that Catra had ever taken her seriously.

Whatever. It had worked out – now she knew the real trick of turning into She-Ra.

She examined herself. The outfit was so painfully stupid, it turned her cheeks a little red…and it was uncomfortable, too. But everything else? Everything else was incredible. She was stronger than a hover transport, and the people out here instantly recognized her as some legendary hero. She’d only gotten fruit out of this little rescue, but it was just a practice run. Next time, she’d get money, or power, or…well…whatever she wanted. Who would say no to She-Ra?

Catra still didn’t care about the princesses and their little war. But she didn’t care about the Horde, either. So if fighting them meant getting to be She-Ra…

She looked down the road, towards where the refugees had come from. Somewhere out there, the Horde was threatening a whole kingdom…a kingdom of people who knew the legend of She-Ra, and seemed all too eager to reward a little heroism.

She wouldn’t keep them waiting.

Adora recognized the massive steel door that led to Lord Hordak’s sanctum. Everyone did. When their superiors were out of earshot, people whispered about the strange things that happened behind that door. Bizarre experiments…cruel punishments.

The stories were almost certainly made up. But now that she was here, about to step through, she couldn’t get them out of her head.

There was a hiss. The door split open. Shadow Weaver glided slowly through, beckoning for Adora to follow. She did, stepping quickly, trying not to let her face betray her. A hiss from behind – she jumped, but it was just the door closing. Now she was trapped with the leader of the Horde. The leader she had failed.

She didn’t tremble. Not quite.

A narrow pathway stretched out ahead, running between two walls of exposed piping and machinery. Some of it was familiar: climate control systems, fuel pipes, power cables. But some of it was unlike anything she’d seen before. What did it all do? Maybe some of the stories were true after all. Maybe–

_Focus._

She turned her eyes straight ahead. She had reached the end of the narrow pathway; here, the room opened up into a vast chamber, dominated by a wide staircase. At its top was a monolithic throne, bathed in bright green light. It was empty. Maybe Lord Hordak wasn’t here? She dared to hope.

But Shadow Weaver was unfazed. She began to ascend, and after a moment, Adora followed. When they reached the top, the sorceress didn’t approach the throne – instead, she stepped around it, into the shadows behind. Adora squinted. Now that she was here, she could make out a whole upper level, as big as the area below and even more densely packed with bizarre machinery.

She froze. The shadows were moving and whirring.

“Lord Hordak,” Shadow Weaver declared. “I present to you: Force Captain Adora.”

A voice replied from the darkness: deep, even, refined. Near.

“Force Captain.”

He was right there! Adora’s eyes widened, and she dropped onto one knee.

“Your assignment was simple. Trivial. Yet you have returned in disgrace.”

Adora’s heart pounded. She snuck a glance upward as two glowing red eyes turned to face her.

“Explain.”

What to do? What to say? She needed more time to think, to decide – how could she stall?

“S-soon after arriving at Thaymor, we…encountered a new princess. A dangerous one. She took out three tanks…in _seconds_. I ordered a retreat.”

Rumor was spreading. Everyone was going to find out, even Lord Hordak. Lying wouldn’t protect her friend. It would only make things worse for Adora.

She took a deep breath.

“That princess…was one of our cadets. Catra.”

She heard a murmur from Shadow Weaver. Ahead, the red eyes narrowed – but they were no longer glaring at her.

“Intriguing. Catra was _your_ ward…was she not?”

“My Lord,” Shadow Weaver began, tension in her voice. “I did all I could for Catra, but she was always…disobedient, and ungrate–”

“Enough.”

“It’s my fault!” Adora exclaimed.

The eyes turned back to her, and sent a chill down her spine. But there was no backing out now.

“Catra found something in the Whispering Woods – a sword. It gave her all this power, but it did something to her mind. I…I didn’t realize it. Not until it was too late.”

“Then you claim responsibility for this failure?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “It was my fault. Not Shadow Weaver’s. Not Catra’s.”

The eyes drilled into her. She couldn’t stand their gaze, so she looked to the ground, instead. She didn’t know if she was ready for whatever punishment Lord Hordak had in mind. But whatever it was…she deserved it.

The seconds passed by in silence. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Rise, Force Captain.”

She blinked. There was no anger in his voice. There was something else instead. A kind of…satisfaction? She rose slowly, watching as the eyes approached, and below them, the tall, armored figure of Lord Hordak took shape. His skin was pale, his ears almost bat-like, and even in the light, his eyes glowed bright red.

“The operation at Thaymor _was_ a failure…but your willingness to take responsibility is noted. It has earned you a second chance.”

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was it a trick? Or was he really so merciful?

“I am told you possess uncommon talent,” he continued. “On your next operation, you will prove it. You will atone for your failure. And should this… _wayward cadet_ get in your way, I expect you will not be bested again. Do I make myself clear?”

She saluted. “Y-yes, Lord Hordak! Thank you, Lord Hordak!”

“Hmph. You are dismissed. Both of you.”

She left quickly, a part of her afraid that he might change his mind. She still couldn’t believe it. All those horror stories had been so wrong. He was merciful, reasonable, and ready to accept her explanation…which meant he understood that none of this was Catra’s fault.

Things could go back to normal! No, better than normal: Adora would make more time for Catra, and use her clout as Force Captain to get her the real missions she’d always craved. They’d put this nightmare behind them, and fight the princesses side-by-side.

But as she stepped out of the sanctum, and into the hallway beyond, she felt an icy hand on her shoulder. She turned. Shadow Weaver loomed.

“Adora.” The warmth from earlier was gone.

Adora winced. “I’m sorry, Shadow Weaver…I know, I should’ve told you sooner. I just–”

“You will keep no further secrets from me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver!”

“Now listen closely: you will find Catra, and you will put an end to her.”

Adora balked. “But it’s not her fault! It’s the sword!”

“She is a threat to all of us!” Shadow Weaver hissed, tightening her grip. “ _Especially_ you.”

“What? No, she wouldn’t–”

“Adora…” Her voice was soft again. “I know it’s not easy to accept, but Catra _will_ try to hurt you. She’s always been jealous.”

Adora narrowed her eyes. “She’s my friend. I won’t give up on her.”

Shadow Weaver was silent for a moment.

“Capture her, then…if you can. But she has chosen to be our enemy. Do _not_ forget that.”

With one last piercing glare, the sorceress turned and floated away.


	5. Allies

Glimmer woke up to a gentle knock on her door. Great – her mother was back. She’d come by three times since yesterday, and every time, Glimmer had ignored her. How had she _still_ not gotten the message?!

_“Glimmer?”_

It wasn’t Mom; it was Bow. He’d only come by once.

Glimmer groaned anyway. “Go away!” she called down from her bed, burying her face in her pillow.

_“You missed the strategy meeting.”_

The strategy meeting. A place where she could propose bad ideas, and her mother could shoot them down.

“Whatever. It’s not like they needed me.”

_“Of course they needed you!”_ Bow protested. _“You come up with all the best punching-based strategies!”_

Of course, her terrible ideas weren’t just limited to punching. After all, she was the one who’d insisted on bringing Catra into the castle.

She rolled over, staring up at the high domed ceiling. She’d been so enamored with the idea of She-Ra – the idea of ending the war – that she hadn’t stopped to think about the volatile, spiteful person she was dealing with. In the end, she’d been able to teleport Catra out before things got completely out of hand. But what if she hadn’t been able to? How far would Catra have gone? The princess shuddered. If Catra had done any real damage, or worse, _killed_ people…it would’ve been her fault.

_“Hey. Your mom’s not mad or anything. She’s just worried about you.”_

And disappointed. That went without saying.

_“I’m worried too.”_

Glimmer was silent.

_“Buuuut I know what’ll cheer you up: we’ve got a mission!”_

“A mission?” She didn’t understand. She was still grounded, after all.

_“Plumeria’s under attack. Your mom is sending supplies, and she wants us to bring them.”_

“Why us? Why…me?”

_“In case any Horde butts need kicking!”_

She rolled her eyes. “So _you_ convinced her, ’cause you think it’ll cheer me up.”

A moment passed.

_“Uh…yeah. Pretty much.”_

She rolled onto her side. A mission…a real, official one, with people depending on it. What if she screwed this up, too?

Then again, there wasn’t much to screw up. This wasn’t some complicated, dangerous operation; it was a supply run in friendly territory. It would be simple. It would be easy.

And right now, an easy win didn’t sound so bad.

_“If you wanna talk,”_ Bow added, _“I’ll be in my room. Otherwise…tomorrow at dawn?”_

“Uh…yeah. Dawn. And…hey.”

She smiled, for the first time all day.

“Thanks.”

Catra was worried about changing back. She’d worked so hard to become She-Ra…what if she couldn’t do it again? What if the sword rejected her a second time? But the boots were uncomfortable, and after an hour in her powered-up form, she started to get a headache. Plus, she’d have to sleep eventually, and she doubted she could hang on to She-Ra overnight.

So finally, reluctantly, she turned back. But as it turned out, she had nothing to fear: when she held the sword in her hands, she could still feel its power at the edge of her mind. It was still hers. And it would stay that way, so long as she kept playing the hero.

The next morning, she woke up to a new worry: what if she couldn’t find Plumeria? All she had to go on was a vague direction and the occasional beaten-up signpost. But that fear proved unfounded, as well – because when she poked her head up through the forest canopy, she found a plume of thick black smoke, the kind that only Horde machines could make. And through that smoke, she detected the hazy outline of a tree the size of a building. It had to be Plumeria.

As she walked, the trees became more withered and faded. Soon they were just barely clinging to life. That didn’t faze her; everyone knew that cutting through the Whispering Woods was Hordak’s top priority. He’d obviously found some new way to do it.

But something did faze her. Nestled between the trees, she found isolated homes – or, well, what was left of them. They’d been reduced to burned-out husks, with their colorful banners charred, and their flower gardens reduced to ash. There was no sign of their former occupants. In all likelihood, Catra had saved some of them yesterday…but not all of them. No. There were too many houses.

In war, you did whatever it took to win; Catra knew that. These homes could’ve housed spies, or been used as staging points for rebel troops. Even if they were purely civilian, the Horde presence might radicalize those civilians…turn them into saboteurs. Driving them out made sense. It was smart.

Still.

There were a few Horde troops on patrol, but they were loud and unwary. Sneaking past them was easy enough. She could’ve turned into She-Ra and launched her attack, of course – but she wanted to reach Plumeria first. She wanted to announce her presence, so that when the Horde fell, everyone would know who to thank…and who to reward.

As she approached the besieged kingdom, she expected to find entrenched soldiers, Horde or otherwise. But there weren’t any; the Horde presence had fizzled out, and no defenders took their place. There was no sign of any dangerous wildlife, either. So why was the Horde keeping its distance?

There was no time to dwell on it. She’d reached a wide glade, full of colorful tents and colorful people. The far side of the glade was dominated by the huge tree she’d spotted from afar; now she could see that the leaves were bright pink, and that the trunk was growing around a large pink gemstone. It glistened, even in the shadow.

Catra took a long, slow breath, before drawing her sword and holding it to the sky. She wondered, yet again, if – but her doubts vanished as warm energy radiated from the hilt, up her arm, into her body. She felt the familiar tug.

“For the honor of Grayskull.”

When the light faded, Catra found the people of the kingdom staring in her direction, straining to see. She took a few long strides out from the trees, and earned a chorus of gasps. The people gawked and whispered to one another as she surveyed them.

“Is that–”

“It can’t be–”

One of them, in particular, caught Catra’s eye: a skinny young woman in a pink dress, with flower petals sprinkled over her blonde hair. She stepped forward, eyes wide.

“She-Ra?” she asked breathlessly.

“Hey,” Catra replied.

“I…I can’t believe…”

The woman trailed off into a squeal of excitement.

“Everyone, gather round! The universe has heard our pleas…the She-Ra has returned to us!”

The crowd stepped forward, muttering to themselves, gazing up at Catra, even pawing at her – she took a step back.

“Whoa, hey, personal space!”

“Welcome back to Plumeria, She-Ra!” the woman in the pink dress declared. “Oh, forgive me – I am Princess Perfuma. Of course you wouldn’t know me – you’ve been gone for centuries!”

“Uh, what? I’m not–”

“Come, everyone! We must celebrate this joyous occasion…with a feast!”

The other woman took Catra by the hand, pulling her eagerly through the crowd, giving orders as they went.

“Get the big blankets! And yes, the good baskets. Gather up the prettiest flowers you can find – ask for volunteers if you have to.”

Catra had spent hours thinking about how to introduce herself…how to persuade these people that she was the hero they wanted. But apparently, that was unnecessary – they already worshipped She-Ra. They were a little handsy, admittedly. She had to keep batting them away as she went through the crowd. But they were the easiest marks she could’ve asked for.

So what came next?

She’d planned to ask for money. After all, she knew all about the pirates and mercenaries who roamed Etheria – the Horde sometimes did business with them. She could be like them, right?

Well, no. Until two days ago, she had never left the Fright Zone…which meant she’d never used real money before. How much was a lot? Should she ask for ten gold? A hundred gold? A thousand? Who knew?

Perhaps she could’ve faked that, thrown out some numbers and done a little cold reading. But there was another, more fundamental problem: Plumeria. Its buildings were simple and temporary, and beneath the bright colors, its fashion was cheap, without jewelry or metal of any kind. As far as she could tell, this place was dirt poor.

But as she watched people sprinting back and forth, hurrying to set up a feast in her honor…as she listened to Perfuma endlessly singing the praises of ‘the She-Ra’…well, Catra didn’t care if they could pay her. She wanted to stay.

There was something driving her to be She-Ra. She could feel it pushing her forward, but she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Not money, apparently. Something else. What was it?

What did she want?

The walk to Plumeria was long and dull, over flat dirt roads and through same-y woods. Today, though, Glimmer didn’t mind. This really was just what she needed: a nice, easy, low-stakes mission, where she didn’t have to worry about a thing.

It helped that Bow wasn’t pushing her to talk about…all that stuff. Instead, they talked about his latest trick arrows, and about this year’s Princess Prom, and about those boring trees.

That last topic, though, was starting to turn grim. The closer they came to the kingdom, the worse the plants looked. Something was happening – something bad. Was the Horde to blame for this…?

It didn’t matter. Either way, there was nothing Glimmer could do about it.

She stopped talking again. Bow tried to draw her back in, but after a while, he gave up, leaving them with nothing but their footsteps and the creaking of the horse-drawn wagon behind them.

But eventually, she heard something new – music, a festive and upbeat flute melody. As they came closer, she began to pick up on chatter and laughter, too.

“Is that coming from Plumeria?” Bow wondered aloud. “It sounds like they’re in really good spirits.”

“Why?” Glimmer muttered. Their situation was supposed to be terrible.

Bow put on his best smile. “Maybe things aren’t so bad here after all!”

Glimmer eyed another decaying tree. She didn’t reply.

Ahead, the path opened up onto a large grassy area, where a row of long blankets had been laid out. They were packed with people, and covered in baskets of delectable fruit; around them were musicians and dancers, while fleet-footed servers stepped expertly between them. It was an honest-to-goodness festival. Maybe Bow was actually right? Maybe Plumeria had somehow driven out the Horde.

But try as she might, she couldn’t buy that.

As Glimmer stared out at the crowd, she noticed something: the people weren’t paying any attention to the entertainers. Instead, they were gazing over to the right, towards a smaller blanket, where half a dozen servers had gathered. This one didn’t have room for many people. In fact, it seemed like there was only one person sitting there, hidden behind the servers. Whoever it was, they were obviously important. Was this whole festival in their honor?

“Welcome, visitors!”

Glimmer jumped – she’d been so distracted, she’d let Princess Perfuma sneak up on her. The woman’s smile was wide and carefree.

Glimmer cleared her throat and stood at attention. “Princess Perfuma! We’ve come from Bright Moon, with food and supplies for your kingdom.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! And your timing is perfect.” In a single, fluid motion, she turned and grabbed a passing server by the wrist. “Our friends from Bright Moon have brought more for the feast!” she announced. The server nodded and scampered off.

“So,” Bow began, “looks like you guys have plenty of food! That’s great! We heard things were…kind of bad."

“I try not to worry too much,” Perfuma replied, “but I’ll admit, our situation was becoming…difficult. You’re actually looking at the last of our stored food.”

Glimmer’s jaw dropped. “What?! Then…why are you having a feast?!”

“Oh, you haven’t heard yet?” Perfuma beamed. “She-Ra is back!”

Glimmer looked again towards the small blanket. Some of the servers had left, giving her a look at the guest of honor: Catra…or, rather, She-Ra. She was lounging at the center of the blanket, surrounded by bowls of food and little gifts. On the far side, a line of people had gathered, eager to add more to her hoard – chimes, fruit, a baby?

Glimmer stared. These people had no idea who they were dealing with.

She turned to Perfuma, fists clenched. “She’s _not_ here to help you. She’s dangerous! We–”

“Princess Glimmer!” Perfuma exclaimed with a look of shock. “How can you say that? The heroism of the She-Ra is the stuff of legends!”

“That was the _old_ She-Ra! This is a new one. And she’s _not_ a hero.”

This time, when Glimmer turned her eyes back to the blanket, Catra met her gaze. For a moment, the other girl’s expression was blank. Then a cocky smirk formed. Catra rose to her feet, and began to push her way through the crowd.

“Whether or not this is the same She-Ra from before,” Perfuma said, “she _is_ She-Ra. And I don’t believe she came here by chance. She was sent here to save us!”

“And how do you think she’s gonna do that?” Glimmer asked quickly; Catra was nearly in earshot.

Perfuma’s eyes fell, and so did her voice. “Look. You’ve seen our forest. I’ve done my best, but whatever’s happening to it…it’s something I can’t fix. But She-Ra has _incredible_ healing powers. She can undo all of this!”

Catra was here. Glimmer hadn’t realized how _tall_ her She-Ra form was. The towering girl seemed to enjoy that; she made a point of standing right in front of Glimmer, casting her in shadow.

“Hey, Sparkles. Arrow Boy.”

Glimmer crossed her arms. “Catra.”

“Uh, hey,” Bow offered nervously. “Long time no see!”

“Ha!” Catra scoffed. “I wish.”

“What are you doing here?” Glimmer demanded.

Catra feigned shock. “Me? I’m here to help. I mean, your little wagon is impressive and all, but I think these people deserve a _real_ hero. Don’t you?”

Glimmer threw out her arms. “You made them throw away all their food on this stupid party!”

“I didn’t _make_ them do anything. And trust me, they’re not gonna have any food problems when I’m done.”

“I knew it!” Perfuma squealed. “You’re going to heal our lands!”

Catra shrugged. “Kinda.”

Perfuma paused. “Uh…heh heh…what does that mean, exactly?”

“It means: someone’s _killing_ your plants.” She pointed towards the edge of the glade – Glimmer looked over, and found black smoke rising in the distance. “And I’m gonna stop them.”

“Oh,” Glimmer hissed, “well maybe you could’ve done that _before_ you ate all their food!”

“Hey, Princess, don’t tell me how to do my job. I don’t tell _you_ how to glow and be annoying.”

Glimmer held in a scream, just barely. Catra watched her with a smile, tail swishing back and forth.

“Aw, I hate to see you so upset, Sparkles. Tell you what – why don’t you go unload your wagon, and _I’ll_ go drive out the Horde.”

Bow cut in. “Are you sure you wanna just charge in there?”

Catra laughed. “I’m She-Ra! I can charge in wherever I want.”

With that, she gave one last wave to her admirers, and then sauntered off towards the woods.

As she left, Perfuma clasped her hands together anxiously. “So…she’s… _not_ going to heal our lands?”

“I don’t think she knows how,” Bow said. “She’s only been She-Ra for two days.”

“But…we already…put out the last of our food…”

“Yeah,” Glimmer replied. “You sure did.”

Perfuma stared vacantly. Then she whirled around and ran off towards the line of servers unloading the wagon, whispering frantic orders into their ears.

Glimmer’s expression softened. She couldn’t judge these people too harshly. They’d let themselves get caught up in the hope and possibility that She-Ra represented…they’d gotten excited, and done something without thinking.

She could relate.

“Do you think we should go after her?” Bow asked.

“Who, Perfuma?”

“No. Catra. We could see if she’s serious about stopping the Horde.”

Glimmer hesitated. Following Catra would be dangerous. What if she attacked them? What if they ran into a Horde patrol, and were overwhelmed? It was exactly the kind of stupid, impulsive idea that so often blew up in Glimmer’s face. The kind that her mother hated so much.

Bow put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll just watch her from a distance,” he assured her. “If anything goes wrong, you teleport us out.”

Was that a good plan? She didn’t know. But…for all her doubts…she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Because what if Catra was lying? What if she was intentionally taking advantage of these people – or worse, what if she was back to working with the Horde?

They had to know. For everyone’s sake.

“Fine,” Glimmer said quietly, looking out into the woods. “Let’s go.”

Catra was easy to follow. Her boots left large, deep prints in the dirt, and every so often, they would lead through a curtain of sliced-up vines.

Once, Glimmer heard distant voices, muffled by helmets: a Horde patrol. But the path wound expertly around them, keeping so much distance that they never even came into view.

“Why aren’t there more patrols?” Glimmer asked quietly. “I mean, Catra’s not even bothering to be stealthy.”

“I guess they don’t think they _need_ patrols,” Bow replied. “Plumeria’s a peaceful kingdom.”

That made sense. They’d probably only sent a small force to carry out their operation here. Driving them out would be easy for Catra…assuming that was her intention. Assuming this obvious trail wasn’t leading the princess of Bright Moon into a Horde trap.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

But before she could second guess herself any further, she spotted something between the trees – a hint of metallic gray. Curious, she teleported a little closer, to the edge of the trees; laid out in front of her was a sprawling Horde base, enclosed by jagged metal walls. There were guard towers at each corner, countless search lights, and an enormous front gate, which was shut tight. Skiff fins and tank cannons poked out over the top of the wall, as did green-gray buildings, one of which was belching the thick black smoke that had drawn them here.

This was a permanent base, large enough for a full-scale assault force. And yet, they were just sitting here. Waiting.

Why?

As Bow arrived next to her, something caught her eye: a familiar white-and-gold figure strutting towards the gate, twirling a sword. Glimmer looked up at the nearest guard tower; its occupant was drawing his weapon, aiming at Catra. Did she even notice? Should Glimmer help?

A bolt of green energy shot out – but Catra deflected it with a lazy swing of her blade. Another swing sent a wave of light in his direction, flinging him backwards, over the railing. He managed to grab onto it, hanging for just a moment before falling.

Catra was at the front gate. She stretched for a moment, then planted her feet, and kicked the door so hard that she put a huge dent in the metal. Another kick blew the door off its enormous hinges, and she stepped through, out of sight.

“Come on, Bow!” Glimmer said, grabbing his shoulder and teleporting them both up to the now-empty guard tower. From here, she could see the whole base – the parked vehicles, the rows of barracks, and the big, ominous building where the smoke was coming from. Soldiers were pouring out into the open, some rushing towards the front gate, others making for their tanks and skiffs.

But Catra got there first. She cut through the vehicles with her sword, threw them against the wall, even tore into some of them with her claws. It took her maybe fifteen seconds, and when she was done, there was nothing left but burning wreckage.

Bow whistled.

The nearest troops opened fire, but they were too close to stand a chance. Catra leapt at them, throwing them to the ground, tossing them at their comrades – she batted one clumsily away with her sword, but she obviously didn’t need the weapon to fight. Soon, there were dozens of soldiers lying on the ground, clutching their heads or struggling to escape. Even from here, Glimmer could see Catra’s wild-eyed grin as she stalked towards her last melee opponent. His mace trembled in his hands.

But there were still countless soldiers keeping their distance. They had spread out into a loose semi-circle, taking cover behind corners, crates, even wrecked vehicles. They didn’t fire. Not yet.

Then, suddenly, they did.

Volleys of energy shot at Catra from all directions. Some missed; many hit. She stayed on her feet for a few moments, but eventually, she fell to her knees, letting out a cry of pain that pierced through the crackling electric sounds of the Horde gunfire. The soldiers only stopped firing once she collapsed entirely – and even then, they let off a few more volleys for good measure before finally lowering their weapons.

There was a burst of light. She-Ra was gone; in her place was a young girl, crumpled and shivering.

Bow whimpered.

Cautiously, the trooper with the mace approached the limp figure. He holstered his weapon, and from his belt, he drew a pair of cuffs. Catra would be a prisoner once again, and She-Ra would be lost.

Unless someone intervened.

Glimmer knew what her mother would say. She would say this could still be a trap. She would say not to risk everything for someone so mean and destructive.

But, for better or worse, Glimmer was not her mother.

She appeared next to Catra in a flash of pink light. Many of the soldiers jumped, but some, more level-headed, raised their weapons back up. As Glimmer dove for Catra’s hand, there were flashes of sickly green at the edge of her vision – but her fingers wrapped around cold skin, and she shut her eyes tight, struggling to envision the safety of the woods.

There was a twinkling sound, and she skidded across the ground.

A moment passed.

She opened one eye cautiously – she was back in the woods, and Catra was lying next to her.

She’d done it.

As she sat up, Catra looked at her, eyes weak and unfocused.

“S-Sparkles?”

Glimmer smiled. “Hey, Catra.”

That was the last they said for a long while.

How long had it been? Catra wasn’t sure. Long enough that her ears had stopped ringing, and her vision had returned. The aching soreness was still here, of course. It would probably last for days. Still…it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. It certainly didn’t compare to the agony of all those stun guns hitting her.

Stun guns. She’d been beaten by _stun guns_.

Glimmer was still here. Still sitting in silence. Why? What was she waiting for? She wasn’t getting a thank-you. It didn’t matter how many times she risked her life like an idiot – Catra would _never_ give her the satisfaction.

Maybe she still wanted She-Ra. But after today’s abysmal display, even that seemed doubtful. Apparently, all that size and strength and magic was just for show. All it took to defeat the legendary hero was some _stun guns_.

It was pathetic.

_She_ was pathetic.

Her ear twitched. Footsteps – quick ones. Maybe it was a Horde soldier, come to put her out of her misery. She didn’t really mind.

“Glimmer!”

No such luck. Bow sprinted over, crouching down next to the princess and wrapping his arms around her.

“Glimmer, are you okay?” His voice cracked as he spoke.

“I’m fine, Bow. Thanks.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, and released his friend. Then he added, “And Catra? Are you okay?”

Catra craned her neck to look at him. “I’m…uh…”

But she couldn’t even finish the lie. Her head was spinning. She had to lie back down, and concentrate on not throwing up.

He came over, kneeling alongside her. There it was again…that awful look of pity.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked.

She scowled. “ _Everywhere._ ”

“Can you move your–”

“I don’t need your help!”

She heard Glimmer scoffing to herself. It made her want to scream. That little self-righteous idiot princess had no right to talk – if it wasn’t for Catra, she never would’ve made it out of Thaymor!

But, really, Catra had every advantage. She had years of Horde training. She had her claws, her senses…she even had She-Ra. Glimmer? Glimmer was a spoiled brat with some magic sparkles.

And today, Catra had needed Glimmer to bail her out.

Pathetic.

“Catra,” Bow said gently. She looked away. “You don’t have to everything on your own.”

“Hmph. That whole ‘teamwork’ thing didn’t go so great at Bright Moon, did it? At least on my own, all I have to worry about is the Horde.”

Glimmer turned to her. She looked…tired. “Hey. I’m sorry about how things went. But you know _why_ all that happened?”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes!”

Catra wasn’t sure how to reply to that.

“I came up with some stupid plan to recruit you to the rebellion – I didn’t tell my mom, and I didn’t think it through. I just…rushed in alone. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah, well, that’s what She-Ra’s _supposed_ to do! It’s the only thing she’s good for. She doesn’t even _work_ if I’m not throwing myself at the Horde!”

“There’s got to be a middle ground between doing nothing and, oh, I don’t know, charging in to your death! Or…capture, or whatever.”

Capture. If not for Glimmer, Catra would be back in chains right now. She might already be on her way back to the Fright Zone, to face Shadow Weaver…and Adora. The thought made her shudder.

Bow spoke up. “You know…you actually did a lot of damage in there.”

“What?”

“You took out all their vehicles, busted down the gate…and those soldiers you beat up aren’t gonna be in fighting shape for a while. Now would be a great time for a follow-up attack.”

What was the point in going back there? She wasn’t good enough. They would just beat her again.

…

No.

She wasn’t going to lose. She wouldn’t give Shadow Weaver the satisfaction. She was going back in there, and she was going to win, no matter how many tries it took. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough – fine, then! She would be _stubborn_ enough.

And she would be crafty enough, too. Her little frontal assault? That was her taking it easy on them. This time, she’d use every advantage: her speed, her range, her stealth. All she needed was a little recon, a little planning, and–

The sword. Where was the sword?! At some point, she must’ve dropped it – had she left it behind in the base?! She twisted around to look, ignoring the pain in her back. There it was, lying on the ground. She hadn’t lost it.

She exhaled.

Shakily, she got up onto her knees and grabbed it, fighting through the nausea. Normally, she would hold the sword up to the sky, but…well, that seemed a little daunting right now. So she settled for pointing it at the dirt.

“For the honor…of Grayskull.”

_Something_ happened. It wasn’t the transformation – there was no blinding light, no rush of magical energy. It was just a dull, tingly warmth that spread out from the hilt, into her body, and then slowly fizzled out.

“Uh, Catra?” Bow sounded anxious. “It’s okay, you–”

“I can feel her,” Catra muttered. “Hmph. I guess she’s still licking her wounds.”

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Bow asked.

“How would I know?!” she snapped. “I’m figuring this stuff out as I go.”

“Well,” Bow suggested patiently, “we should probably get you back to Plumeria. You can rest up there.”

“Hmph. By the time I’m all ‘rested up’, they’re gonna have reinforcements. They’ll be back up to full strength, or better.”

“I don’t think we have much choice. You can’t fight like this, and Glimmer and I can’t take on that whole base without you.”

He was right. Catra hated it, but he was right. She crossed her arms and looked pointedly away – towards Glimmer, who was gazing absentmindedly at the base. Come to think of it, she’d been oddly quiet for a while.

“Sparkles?”

“What if,” Glimmer asked, “we got Plumeria to attack?”

Catra cocked her head. Her neck stung, but it was important to convey what a stupid idea that was.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but these flower people aren’t exactly–”

“Think about it,” Glimmer interrupted, eyes gleaming. “The Horde has this huge base, with all these soldiers and tanks and stuff. I mean, there’s enough here to be an invasion force. But they’re _not_ invading – they’re just sitting here, slowly messing with the plants.”

There was some truth to that. The Horde didn’t usually tiptoe around its objectives; if they thought they could win here, they would’ve attacked. But instead, they were running their little scheme, and trying not to rile up the locals. They’d even built these fortifications, and assigned a whole company to defend them.

“The Horde is scared of Plumeria!” Glimmer declared.

Catra scoffed. These people didn’t scare anybody. Still, she got the point: for whatever reason, Hordak thought the flower people were a threat to him. He thought they might actually beat his troops.

“You might have a point,” Bow admitted, “but it won’t be easy to convince Perfuma to attack.”

True enough. She obviously didn’t have much stomach for fighting – or else she would’ve attacked already, and not let the Horde poison her kingdom with impunity. Perhaps She-Ra could’ve persuaded her, but right now, they didn’t have She-Ra. All they had was a bruised and battered girl.

But then again…maybe that was enough.

She studied Bow and Glimmer. A pompous princess and a naïve fool – not the partners she would’ve chosen for the little con she had in mind. But she couldn’t pull it off alone, and right now, these two were all she had.

“Alright, listen up,” she declared. “I know how to get through to Perfuma, but you idiots have to do _exactly_ as I say. Got it?”

They hesitated. They glanced at one another.

“What’s your plan?” Bow asked.

Catra gave him a sly smile.

“We’re gonna put on a show.”

Glimmer sprinted out into the glade. The festival was over, and its vibrant, cheerful atmosphere had gone with it. Now, as the people rolled up blankets, packed up their remaining food, and unloaded the wagon from Bright Moon, they exchanged somber looks and anxious whispers.

Catra’s plan had better work.

“Everyone, come quick!” Glimmer shouted. “She-Ra’s been hurt!”

There were cries of shock and horror. People dropped what they were doing, quickly gathering around. Glimmer turned, expectantly.

Huh. They were a little slow.

She fought the urge to tap her foot.

Finally, Bow stepped out from the trees, his arm around a limping Catra. Murmurs went up from the crowd.

“What happened?”

“She’s just a girl?”

“Is she alright?”

Bow looked up at them, his eyes big and full of sorrow. “She was…so brave,” he declared. “She took out _hundreds_ of Horde soldiers, but when it was down to the last squad, those _cowards_ got her in the back.”

He was really getting into it. Were those real tears?

Some people stepped forward to help Catra, but she pushed them away. “It’s too late for me,” she insisted, turning away and shielding her eyes. “I only wish…I could have given you…the freedom you deserved…”

Bow coughed.

“And stopped the Horde from killing your plants,” Catra added quickly.

Perfuma stepped out from the crowd, wide-eyed and sniffling. “She-Ra…I…I’m so sorry…we should never have let this happen…”

“Just promise me,” Catra replied dramatically, “that you won’t let them beat you. Promise me!”

Perfuma whimpered. “I promise.”

Catra tapped her foot against Bow’s shin, and he let go of her. She dropped to her knees, grasping up at the sky. Then, finally, she fell forward, limp.

Bow leaned down and put a hand to her wrist. Solemnly, he turned to Perfuma, and shook his head.

Perfuma was quiet for a moment.

Then she clenched her fist.

“Get the war chimes! We march!”

The glade erupted into roars. People ran all around as Perfuma barked orders furiously. Hopefully none of them bumped into Catra. Glimmer teleported over, unfastened her cape, and covered as much of the girl as she could.

_“Looks like they bought it!”_ Glimmer whispered.

_“Just make sure nobody steps on me,”_ Catra whispered back from under the fabric.

Glimmer had a snarky reply lined up, but she cut herself short – Perfuma was coming back over.

“Friends from Bright Moon…will you join us?”

Glimmer hesitated. If her mom were here…but, no. This time, it wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t reckless. They only had one shot at driving the Horde out of Plumeria, which meant they should commit everything to this attack – and that included Glimmer. There was risk, yes. But there was always risk. And she could make a real difference here.

This time, her mom was wrong.

It took some time to prepare a war party, and – aside from a brief moment when Bow and Glimmer carried her into a tent – Catra had to stay perfectly still the entire time. She thought she might lose her mind. By the end of it, she was fidgeting under Glimmer’s cape, hoping no one would notice her tapping fingers.

No one did. And finally, as gentle marching music began to play outside, her visitors all left. She risked a quick stretch as the music, and the pounding of feet, faded gradually into the distance.

She pulled the cape down cautiously. She was in a dark tent, lying on a well-padded blanket, surrounded by others like it. There was a flap door leading to the outside. She sniffed the air – someone was out there. No doubt a guard posted to watch over the body of their beloved hero.

Well, she wasn’t just going to lie here. She planned to be there when that Horde base fell. And besides, there was a chance that it wouldn’t fall – that these flower people weren’t as tough as Hordak thought. If that happened, Catra wanted plenty of time to get out of here before the Horde troops showed up.

Quietly, she climbed to her feet, ignoring all the aches that came with movement. Her hand brushed on something cold. It was the sword. Bow and Glimmer must have left it here for her.

No time to dwell on that. She grabbed it and quickly surveyed the tent. There, towards the back – light was coming through a gap at the bottom of the tent wall, where the ground dipped slightly, but the fabric didn’t. There was just enough room. Catra got down on all fours and slipped through, pulling the sword through after her and slinging it across her back. Then she disappeared into the trees.

She had no trouble tracking a loud, angry war party. Staying out of their sight wasn’t hard, either; by this point, Catra was pretty good at sneaking around the woods. Still, she kept a cautious, respectable distance. Her con was working like a charm…the last thing she wanted was to ruin it.

As they neared the Horde base, Catra started to circle around the group, hoping to get a good view. Before too long, she was at the tree line, looking out once again at the imposing gray walls. The front gate was still broken down, of course, and she’d done a little damage to the nearest guard tower…but other than that, the base still looked dangerously intact.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

But the die was cast. The people of Plumeria were here, emerging from the forest in a barely-organized crowd, marching to the not-quite-threatening tune of their flutes and chimes. Perfuma was at their head, with Bow and Glimmer trailing just behind her.

In the guard towers, Horde lookouts were shouting into their wrist communicators, and grabbing their weapons. Bow notched his own weapon, and Glimmer’s hands began to glow – but they were the only ones equipped to fight back. The rest of the crowd was armed with spears or slings, if that. They didn’t stand a chance against the Horde’s energy weapons.

But then Perfuma raised her hand.

Thick bundles of vines shot out from the woods, reaching for the guard towers. They plucked the soldiers out from their posts, smacking them into the sides of their towers and letting them slide down to the ground in a daze. Perfuma was obviously being gentle; it would’ve been easier to just fling them to their deaths.

Well. Catra knew what Hordak was afraid of.

More vines rose up from the woods, rushing forward like a wave. They lifted the crowd up, carrying it forward, through the open gate. Catra could hear blaring alarms, weapons fire, and cries of panic, along with the sound of vines cracking like whips.

She _had_ to see this.

She clambered up the nearest tree, and then leapt over to the damaged guard tower, managing to grab on to the edge of the platform. It wasn’t her most graceful landing, and she hung there for a moment, catching her breath. Then she pulled herself up; there was a guard just in front of her, watching the chaos as it unfolded below. With a smirk, she pushed him over the railing, and he fell into a pile of crates.

She surveyed the base. The Horde troops were stumbling out once again, trying to get into organized formations – but the ones nearest to the gate were set upon by the angry crowd, and they were vastly outnumbered. Some of the troops managed to keep their distance, but as they began to fire, they were slapped aside by vines, or trapped under net arrows, or jumped by a screaming, wild-eyed Glimmer.

And as the crowd fought, battle cries went up.

“For Plumeria!”

“For the She-Ra!”

A shiver ran down Catra’s spine. These people were fighting for _her_.

It was barely a minute before the Horde troops were all sprawled on the ground, or fleeing from the sea of people and plants. She watched Bow and Glimmer storm the main building; a minute later, its chimney stopped belching smoke. The pair stepped out again, grinning ear-to-ear, as the crowd erupted into cheers – at the center of it all, Perfuma spun around in a circle, and suddenly, white flowers bloomed all over the base.

Catra was dazed. They’d done it. They’d actually won.

_She_ had won.

She took a moment to breathe that in.

Then she darted along the wall, towards the front gate. She leapt down, landing with a roll, and – brushing herself off – stepped calmly through the gate, into the crowd.

Heads began to turn as she passed. She heard people gasping. Perfuma spotted her, and after a moment of shocked recognition, she sprinted over, eyes wide and teary; she threw her arms around Catra, who tried and failed to squirm away.

“Hey, easy!”

“She-Ra!” Perfuma wailed, finally releasing her. “You’re…you’re alive…it’s a miracle!”

Bow and Glimmer appeared in a pink flash. Glimmer gave her a cheerful smile. Bow did not. He was too committed to his role.

“Catra!” he shouted. “I can’t believe it! The _courage_ of these people must have brought you–”

“Yup,” she interrupted. “It was crazy She-Ra magic, or…whatever.”

“We owe this victory to you,” Perfuma declared. “You believed in us…you believed that we could be strong!”

“And I wrecked all their tanks,” Catra added with a smirk. “Don’t forget that.”

Bow began pumping his fist. “She…Ra. She…Ra! She…Ra!”

After a moment, Perfuma joined in – and the crowd followed suit. There were hundreds of voices. They were booming, cheering…for her.

She shivered.

All her life, she’d fought for recognition. She’d never gotten it. She’d always been insignificant, or a problem, or just second-best. Always.

Until now.

As the chant broke down into wild, incoherent cheering, Perfuma gave her a smile.

“We’ll never forget what you did for us today. Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

Catra hesitated. She had to decide: what did she want?

Well, she wanted recognition, and praise, and influence. She wanted entire kingdoms to cheer for her, and march in her name. She wanted people’s respect and admiration. She wanted…well…this.

And one other thing.

All those people who had denied her? Hordak…Shadow Weaver…Adora. She wanted to prove, once and for all, just how wrong they had been.

She wanted to _win_.

“I’m taking down the Horde,” Catra declared, marveling at the words. “But, uh, I’m gonna need people who can fight.”

Perfuma paused. “Will I…get to hit more people with plants?”

“You bet.”

Perfuma grinned. “Then I’m in!”

Catra looked over to Bow and Glimmer. “How ‘bout you two?”

Bow nodded confidently. “You can count me in! We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeeeah, don’t push your luck. Sparkles?”

Glimmer looked distracted. She was rubbing her arm anxiously, and only now met Catra’s eyes.

“Um…look. Things went really bad at Bright Moon, okay? I screwed some stuff up, and…you were kind of a jerk, too.”

Catra gave her a dour look. If she wanted an apology, she wasn’t getting one.

“So, listen. I promise not to drag you into stuff without telling you everything. And I promise that if you get locked up again, I’ll get you out…no matter what. Okay?”

Well. This wasn’t the reckoning Catra had expected.

“Uh…yeah? Sure.”

“But _you_ have to promise not to make any threats, or try to hurt anybody. No matter what.”

Catra bristled at the implication. “Hey, I was–”

“I know! You were locked up, and that sucked. But I won’t let it happen again. So _from now on_ , no threats, and no hurting people. Okay?”

She rolled her eyes. If the princess thought Catra was just going to take whatever misery the world sent her way, she was deeply mistaken. But, of course, Catra didn’t have to admit that here. And teleporting powers were a useful thing to have on her side.

“Fine. Whatever.”

For a moment, it looked like Glimmer had more to add. But then she sighed.

“Alright. Then let’s go talk to Mom.”

Catra’s hair stood on end. “Hey, I don’t need Queen–”

“You wanna beat the Horde, right? Well, Bright Moon has the most troops, the most supplies, and the best defenses. Plus, the beds are _way_ nicer than sleeping in the woods all the time.”

Catra was ready to push back, right up until that last point. Oh, she still _hated_ Queen Angella. But…truth be told…she hated the Whispering Woods even more.

“Ugggh. Fine.”

Glimmer gave her a slight smile.

Bow grinned like an idiot. “Looks like the _Best Friend Squad_ is _–_ ”

Catra shoved a hand over his mouth.

The main hall of Bright Moon was rarely so packed. There were citizens, scouts, soldiers, and guards, all crowded together – but as Glimmer, Bow, and Catra approached, that crowd began to part. A hush fell over the room. All eyes were on She-Ra.

At the far end of the hall, Queen Angella sat on her throne, conversing with an envoy in the blue-green clothes of Salineas. But their conversation ground to a halt when the queen spotted the approaching trio. She stared in silence.

They stopped a nice, respectful distance from the throne. They each gave a polite bow – even Catra. Good. Just like they’d rehearsed.

Glimmer looked up at her mother. She cleared her throat.

“Your majesty. Our mission to Plumeria was a success, and the Horde has been driven completely from their lands – thanks to She-Ra.”

Murmurs went up from the crowd. But the queen’s look of shock was quickly turning to a scowl. Glimmer had to talk fast.

“Look, Mom, I know there were some… _problems_ last time. But we had a talk – things are gonna be different!”

Angella turned to Catra. “When last we spoke, you threatened to attack us, even as we granted you your freedom. After that, how can I allow you to join the rebellion?”

Catra chuckled. “Join your rebellion? Oh, that’s cute. No…this time, I’m making _you_ an offer. See, according to Sparkles here, you used to have a ‘Princess Alliance’? Well, I’m making a new one.”

The queen’s jaw dropped. “ _You_ wish to–?! My friends…my husband…they gave their _lives_ for the Princess Alliance! You have _no right_ to that name!”

“Really?” Catra answered nonchalantly. “Doesn’t seem like you’ve been using it. Actually, it kinda seems like you’ve been sitting around here, just hoping the Horde never finds a way through your precious woods.”

“We have done what is _necessary_ to survive! If we had the means to oppose the Horde more directly–”

“Oh, yeah, if only. Hey, did I mention I just freed a whole kingdom?”

“That–”

“You know, Perfuma was so grateful, she signed up for my Princess Alliance! I hear you’ve spent years trying to get the other kingdoms to join you – but I got Plumeria onboard in one day.”

“We–”

“Maybe a decade in hiding sounds good to you, but that’s not really how I roll. No, I’m gonna _beat_ the Horde. I’m gonna end your little war. And you can either be a part of that…or you can watch from the sidelines while the _real_ heroes do all the work.”

The crowd was getting louder. Catra was working them up…taking control of the room. Angella could sense it, too – her eyes quickly scanned the onlookers, before turning to Glimmer.

“Commander Glimmer. You support this…project? You wish to follow this girl, even after everything she has said and done…?”

“We screwed up too, Mom! If she can forgive us, why can’t we forgive her?”

“I am not interested in _forgiveness_ –”

“Well maybe you should be! Catra’s helped so many people…and she can really make a difference against the Horde!”

Angella’s eyes were full of fury. She began to speak – but then, once again, her eyes were drawn to the crowd.

A tense moment passed.

Finally, she turned back to Catra.

“Hmph. Very well, She-Ra. The Kingdom of Bright Moon accepts your offer. We shall lend our support to this new…Princess Alliance. And we shall fight in honor of those we have lost.”

The tension burst. The crowd burst into cheers. But as it did, Angella stepped forward, lowering her voice.

“But know this, Catra: if you betray my daughter’s trust again, there will be no more chances.”

Catra hissed, but it was too late – the queen had turned and walked away.


	6. The Sea Gate

As Catra stepped out of her bedroom, into the spacious halls of Bright Moon, she examined her new outfit. There were two changes: it had a new belt buckle (in the shape of a golden wing), and it wasn’t torn up by the woods. In every other way, though, it was a perfect copy of her old one – the tailors had done impressive work. The top even fit a little better.

But as she looked down to admire it, she spotted something else: a little purple box in front of her door. She hopped down on all fours, eyeing it suspiciously. She sniffed it. No hint of explosives or poison.

Cautiously, she popped off the lid: waiting inside was a little red headpiece, with sharp angles and a pair of thin, black cat eyes on the front. It was _her_ headpiece. The one she’d left in Thaymor. How…?

There was a note next to it.

_The people of Thaymor found this in the woods. They thought you might want it back! – Glimmer_

Quickly, Catra put it on. She glanced down at the polished floor, where her reflection looked back up at her. She wore a fresh, snappy uniform. Her headpiece gave her that little air of danger that she craved. Her eyes were bright and full of life. Her grin was sincere.

She finally looked like herself again.

She smiled all the way to the meeting room.

Catra was late, of course, but she wasn’t going to sneak in or anything. When you were in charge, you _got_ to be late. So she threw the doors wide open. Inside, clustered around a big table, were Glimmer, Bow, the Bright Moon general, those two other princesses (Spinner-something? Net Tosser?), and, of course, Queen Angella. Their heads all turned as Catra sauntered in.

The queen made no effort to hide her disdain. “Hmph. I see you’ve finally decided to join us.”

“Yeah, you know, I like to skip the boring parts.” Catra slipped into her chair, and kicked her feet up on the table. “I’m kidding! They’re _all_ boring.”

Glimmer stepped in quickly, before her mother could reply. “Sooo, Catra, I was just proposing that we go to Salineas, to try and recruit Mermista to our new Princess Alliance!”

At the mention of the Alliance, Queen Angella squeezed her fingers tight. Catra took a moment to relish that before replying.

“The water princess, right? I’m not a fan.”

“Well…if you prefer, I guess we could go to Dryl, and talk to Entrapta.”

“Ugh. That’s the geek princess, right? Pass.”

“Weeeell…Frosta isn’t taking visitors right now. And we agreed that those three are the most important to recruit.”

Catra sighed. “Fine. Water princess it is.”

“Glimmer was _proposing_ this plan,” Angella replied. “I have not yet approved it.”

“Oh, sorry, go ahead! Tell us we should all wait around in the castle for another decade.”

The queen narrowed her eyes. “ _Whatever_ you think of my past decisions, a foolish action now could prove far worse than no action at all!”

“Uh-huh. See, here’s the thing: you’re not the leader of the Princess Alliance. _She-Ra_ is. And _she_ says we’re going – me, Sparkles, and Arrow Boy. You got a problem with that?”

Once again, Glimmer interjected. “It’ll be safe, Mom! We won’t start any fights – we’ll just go to Salineas, talk to Mermista, and come home.”

Angella glared at Catra for a moment longer. She smirked back. But finally, the queen turned away, towards her daughter.

“Hmph. Very well, Glimmer. I will approve this mission. But when _She-Ra_ meets our potential allies, I hope she will control her _tongue._ ”

With that, Angella got up and stormed out, leaving the room quiet.

Bow cleared his throat nervously.

“We…also need to find a boat.”

A boat? Catra grimaced. She should’ve picked the geek princess after all.

The harsh lights, the metal walls, the gawking trainees…Adora tuned them all out. She focused her attention exclusively on the figure standing before her: Force Captain Octavia. Her skin was blue-green, she wore her badge as an eyepatch, and she had four long tentacles protruding from her back, hanging in the air behind her. But more importantly, she was tall, strong, and wielding a broadsword. A perfect stand-in.

Adora gripped her staff tight.

Octavia let out a furious cry, and lunged forward, slashing over and over again with her sword. Adora deflected what she could, and blocked what she had to – but each block sent her stumbling backwards. The other woman’s attacks were too heavy to oppose.

So Adora stopped opposing them. Instead, she leapt backwards, watching Octavia carefully, waiting for her to charge. When she did, Adora ducked out of the way, whipping her staff around; Octavia blocked her counterattack, but only just.

The more Adora dodged and weaved, the angrier Octavia became. Her strikes grew more frantic, less accurate, while Adora’s came ever closer to connecting. Finally, as Octavia committed to one last, desperate swing, Adora saw her opening – she dove under the blade, knocking the other Force Captain off her feet and onto the ground. A moment later, she was standing over Octavia, her staff to the other’s throat.

The trainees burst into cheers.

Adora pulled her staff away, tapping the button to retract it. Octavia looked up at her, teeth gritted, fists clenched. But after a moment, she closed her eyes, sighed, and relaxed. And when Adora offered a hand, she took it.

As the two wiped the sweat from their brows, a chill fell over the room, and the crowd went deathly quiet. Octavia jumped to attention, saluting. After a moment to gather her thoughts, Adora turned, offering Shadow Weaver a salute of her own.

“Adora. Walk with me.”

The sorceress turned and floated back out the door. There were audible sighs of relief.

Adora holstered her staff and hurried out, pulling alongside her commander. The walk was short, but it passed in silence, save for Adora’s footsteps. Neither of them looked at the other.

As they stepped into Shadow Weaver’s chamber, Adora found herself gazing up at the mirrored facets of the Black Garnet. It was the source of Shadow Weaver’s power…and the reason she was so protective of this room. To be invited in was a great honor. It was a mark of trust.

Yet when they turned to finally face each other, Shadow Weaver’s eyes seemed cold.

“Force Captain. You are no doubt aware of our ongoing attacks on the kingdom of Salineas.”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

“These attacks have dragged on for some time, and Lord Hordak has grown tired of waiting. You will take a complement of troops, and you will destroy the gate, once and for all.”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver. I’ll prepare an operational plan, and bring it to you for–”

“No. You will leave as soon as your ship is ready.”

Adora furrowed her brow. Attacking without adequate planning was hasty and reckless. It was exactly the kind of thing she had been trained not to do.

“Time is of the essence,” Shadow Weaver explained. “My spies have discovered certain… _envoys_ en route to Salineas. These are individuals of great value to the rebellion. You will eliminate them.”

Shadow Weaver was hinting at something. It took Adora a second to figure out what. But when she did, a shiver ran up her spine.

“Catra. She’s one of them, isn’t she?”

Shadow Weaver was quiet for a moment. She began to circle slowly around her subordinate. “Success in this mission would do much to wipe away your failure at Thaymor. You would be wise not to let your _feelings_ stand in your way.” An icy hand gripped Adora’s shoulder.

“I won’t give up on her,” she insisted. “I can’t.”

“Even after she abandoned you?”

“No…that’s not…”

It wasn’t Catra’s fault – the sword was controlling her! But Adora couldn’t quite find the words.

Shadow Weaver circled back around, into view, and met her gaze. “She will seek every advantage. She will try to use your emotions against you. Do _not_ let her.”

The sorceress stared expectantly. A few seconds passed…silence. Her eyes narrowed, disappointment creeping into them. It stung. But Adora couldn’t give her what she wanted. She couldn’t make that awful promise.

She had a friend to save.

At first glance, the port town was an embarrassment. There were just a handful of little round buildings, perched near the edge of a cliff. But as they drew close, and the path swung over towards that edge, Catra realized that the heart of the town was actually set into the side of that cliff – and one of those little buildings she’d seen was actually just the tip of a massive, fortress-like structure that loomed over the harbor.

There were half a dozen ships moored out on the water, and another dozen floating in midair, a hundred feet above the sea, docked at the big structure. Apparently boats could fly. News to her.

“We’re here!” Bow declared. “Seaworthy!”

“Uh…yeah,” Catra replied. “That’s a good quality in a boat.”

“It’s the name of the town,” Glimmer explained politely. Had that been in the meeting? Catra had tuned a lot of it out.

“It’s where all the bravest and most daring pirates come ashore!” Bow added, his voice giddy.

Catra gave him a sidelong glance. “You don’t really know what pirates do, huh?”

“They roam the seas in search of _adventure_!” he shouted, pumping his fist.

Catra grabbed his hand and forced it down. “No, they steal things – from idiots like you. So shut up, follow my lead, and try not to look weak.”

With that, she set off into town, following a set of stairs down the side of the cliff. Here, in the shadow of that big fortress, the pathways were bustling with shady-looking characters. But Catra’s confident swagger was well-practiced. When anyone got too close, she would give them just the slightest hiss; the kind that said ‘you’re beneath my notice, and you’d better keep it that way’. It was a Force Captain’s walk. She’d learned through imitation.

The structure was home to all kinds of little shops. Some were hawking fish, while others were selling clothes. She passed them without a second glance. Wherever the sailors spent their time, it wasn’t here. There had to be someplace else.

She heard the tavern before she saw it: strained grunts, raucous laughter, and the slamming of flagons on tables. She smirked as she rounded the corner, and the entrance came into view. It sounded like her kind of place.

The inside was bigger than she’d expected, complete with a second floor. And it was densely populated by all sorts of tough-looking men and women, who were nursing drinks, playing cards, or, in one case, in the midst of a fistfight. A crowd had gathered around the fight, cheering and placing bets.

Yep, her kind of place.

But she was here on business. She scanned the crowd, looking for the telltale signs of wealth and success; she needed a captain, not a crewman. There, in the corner – there were two men in a round booth, busy arm-wrestling. The one who was losing didn’t interest her. But the winner did. He had a well-groomed mustache, a blue bolero jacket with golden trim, and a confident grin as he pressed his advantage. A moment later, there was a thud: he’d won. He shouted triumphantly, and the loser, with obvious reluctance, slammed a few coins on the table before leaving.

Catra crossed the room and slipped onto the bench across from the captain, leaning casually back. She waited for him to pocket his winnings and turn his eyes upward. He flashed her a grin.

“Why hello there, young miss. Is there something old Sea Hawk can do for you?”

Glimmer and Bow slipped into the booth next to Catra. Bow’s eyes were wide. “Your _name_ is Sea Hawk…?! Are you a pirate?!” he asked excitedly.

Catra groaned to herself as Sea Hawk looked wistfully into the distance. “Oh, I’m many things. Dashing adventurer…expert sailor…and yes, on occasion, I may even dabble in piracy.”

“We’re not looking for a _pirate_ ,” Catra pointed out, scowling at Bow. “We’re looking for a _ride_ to Salineas.”

“Ahh…Salineas,” Sea Hawk replied. “The realm of Princess Mermista. Her beauty is without peer.”

“You know her?” Glimmer asked.

He chuckled. “Why, Mermista and I are dear friends! I could even put in a good word for you, if you’d like.”

 _“We have to hire him!”_ Bow whispered to Catra…loudly.

Sea Hawk pulled out a scrap of paper from under his jacket, and pushed it across the table. “My services aren’t cheap, but you’ll find they’re worth every penny.”

Catra picked up the paper. Well…it _seemed_ like a big number. She passed it off to Glimmer; the princess balked.

“We could buy our own ship for that!” she complained.

“True! But without my expert hand, you’d be dashed against the rocks…if you were lucky. There are many worse fates to be found at sea.”

Bow gulped. Catra rolled her eyes. Then she paused, an idea taking shape.

“Is your ship docked here?” she asked, examining her claws as casually as she could.

“Oh, I can never stray far from–”

“Which berth?”

“You’ll find the _Dragon’s Daughter III_ in berth seventeen.”

Bow squealed at the name. But Catra just smirked. “That’s great. So, hey – this is a scam, right? You figure we’ve got money, and we’re from out of town, so you can charge us whatever you want.”

“Wh-what?! I would _never_ –”

“Yeah, honestly, I’m pretty offended. And here’s the thing: I’m _She-Ra_. You know, the big lady who goes around cutting tanks in half.” She reached over her shoulder, tapping the sword on her back. “Or, in this case, boats.”

“B-b-but–”

“Berth seventeen, right?”

“W-wait! That was the…uh… _standard_ rate! But I can see now that you qualify for the _legendary hero_ rate!”

“Uh-huh.” Catra reached into her pocket, and pulled out a single coin. With a sly grin, she flipped it onto the table. “That sound about right?”

Sea Hawk’s eyes fell for just a moment. Then he hastily cleared his throat, his grin returning. “Why…yes! Of course! I wouldn’t dream of charging more for such esteemed guests! And truth be told, I was heading to Salineas anyway.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Mmhmm. Yes. Very well! I shall ready the ship.” He took the coin, leapt up from the booth, and strutted off.

Catra could feel Bow’s eyes on her as the captain stepped out of earshot.

“You didn’t have to threaten him,” Bow said quietly.

She rolled her eyes. “Is _that_ where you draw the line? A few days ago, we tricked an entire kingdom into going to war. Remember?”

He winced. “That was…different. We had to do that to save Plumeria.”

“And we’re doing _this_ to save another kingdom.”

Glimmer spoke up. “Bow…I’m with Catra on this one. Sea Hawk tried to scam us – all she did was get him back!”

Sparkles was on her side? That came as a pleasant surprise.

But Bow still wasn’t convinced. “Look, Catra, you agreed not to make any more threats–”

“If it was up to you,” she declared, “we’d still be stuck here without a ride. So get moving!” She gave Bow a shove. “I don’t wanna find out if he’s brave enough to leave without us.”

Boats were so much worse than Catra had imagined. The water was all around her, extending to the horizon in every direction. What if the boat sank? What if she fell over the side? What if someone pushed her? All she could do was stand awkwardly at the very center of the vessel, glaring at Sea Hawk whenever he got too close. Yes, she was blocking the hatch down to the hold. No, she wasn’t going to move.

But somehow, the vast, deep abyss wasn’t the worst thing.

“I’m SEEEEAA HAAWWK, I am, I am! If you’re looking for ad-ven-ture then I am, your, man!”

Bow clapped along as Sea Hawk danced across the deck, belting out line after line. His spirits were certainly high. Maybe Catra ought to threaten him some more.

She tried to complain, but she was drowned out by the captain’s booming voice. So she resigned to wait for the end of the song. It was a short little ditty, but it felt very long.

“ADVENTURE!” he shouted; and then, finally, it was over. Bow applauded, and Sea Hawk took a bow.

“Seriously?” Catra demanded, turning her glare to the archer.

He smiled back at her. “Come on, Catra, we’re just passing the time!”

“He tried to cheat us, like, an _hour_ ago.”

“I apologize,” Sea Hawk replied, “for attempting to charge you a rate which may or may not have been unusually high. I can’t always help my roguish behavior! Some find it very charming, you know.”

Catra turned to Glimmer, hoping for support. But the princess just shrugged. “I mean, he said he was sorry.”

“So what?” Catra spat. “If he had the chance, he’d still rob you blind. He’s not your _friend_.”

Glimmer hesitated. “Well…I mean…when _we_ met, you tried to tackle me off a cliff. But we’re friends now!”

Catra scoffed. “We’re _allies_.”

The princess winced. When she replied, her voice was almost pleading. “Okay, but…wouldn’t you _rather_ be friends?”

The question caught Catra off guard. “Whatever,” she declared quickly. “Sing your stupid songs with your idiot friend – what do I care?”

She threw open the hatch beneath her, and leapt down into the ship’s cramped hold. Then she reached back up and slammed the hatch shut, leaving the room in near-darkness, lit by only a few small portholes. She was closer to the water now…she tried not to think about that as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.

 _“Your friend is…quite temperamental.”_ It was Sea Hawk’s voice, coming from above.

 _“She grew up in the Horde,”_ Glimmer explained. _“Things were pretty messed up there.”_

 _“I’m sorry she threatened to wreck your boat,”_ Bow added – though Glimmer muttered a dissenting opinion under her breath.

 _“Ha!”_ Sea Hawk bellowed. _“Your friend has a pirate’s wit, worthy of respect! …Though her disdain for sea shanties is harder to excuse.”_

 _“She’s not a bad person,”_ Glimmer said. _“I mean, she keeps saving people, right? We just have to get through all that Horde stuff in her head.”_

‘Horde stuff’. It was a neat little way to write off everything that made Catra different from them. Her refusal to be soft. To be weak. To be _vulnerable._ How dare they judge her? They didn’t know _anything_ about her life.

And no, Catra didn’t want to ‘be friends’ with Sparkles – because when push came to shove, Glimmer would always choose Bow over her.

She was done being told how to behave, and she was done being anyone’s second choice.

Adora heard grunting, and looked up from her checklist. It was her old squadmates, struggling to push a heavily-laden hover cart up the ship’s boarding ramp. She darted forward, grabbing the cart from the front and helping to pull it up. There were four sighs of relief as it slid onto the deck, and leveled itself out.

“Thanks, Ador– uh, Force Captain,” Lonnie offered.

“Hey, I’m still Adora! And I should be thanking you guys for all the hard work.”

“Just glad we could help.” Lonnie leaned in and lowered her voice. “It’s not like Scorpia can get this thing loaded on her own.”

Adora snorted. “I think she’s still down there, trying to figure out how to stack all the boxes.”

“Uggggh.”

As the cadets went back to work, Adora’s eye was drawn back towards the boarding ramp. There was an imposing, familiar figure waiting at the bottom.

“Octavia," Adora called out. "What’s up?”

“I’ve been assigned to accompany you,” the other Force Captain declared.

“Oh. Well, that’s a relief! I could use the backup.”

Octavia laughed. “I’m not your ‘backup’, kid. _Your_ mission is to destroy the Sea Gate. _Mine_ is to put She-Ra down.” She patted the sword at her hip.

Adora froze. She realized, far too late, that she ought to have lied to Shadow Weaver. She ought to have said that she would do anything to complete her mission. Because now, knowing what Adora refused to do, her commander had found someone else.

“What?” Octavia barked. “You think I can’t do it, just ‘cause you beat me a couple times in training?”

Adora waved her hands frantically. “No no no, that’s not what I…uh…”

Her mind raced. How could she keep Catra safe? Maybe she could find a way to distract Octavia once they got to Salineas. Or, better yet, maybe she could leave the other Force Captain entirely behind.

Adora descended the boarding ramp, until she was at Octavia’s eye level. “I’m pretty nervous about seeing She-Ra again,” she said carefully. That much was true. “Do you think we could maybe, uh…you know…go a few more rounds in the training room? You know, just so I can be, uh, _extra_ ready!”

Octavia crossed her arms. “I thought you’d be ready to leave by now.”

“Whaaat? Naaah. There’s still…so many boxes to load! You know how, uh, how bad Scorpia is at loading stuff! Worst loader in the Fright Zone!” Adora smiled so wide it hurt.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Ugh…look, if you care so much, we can train on the way. I’ll grab the gear.”

“That is very smart! You’re very smart. I’m glad you’re here.”

Without replying, Octavia walked away.

Adora gasped for air. She’d actually done it…! She hadn’t gotten as much time as she wanted, but she’d probably gotten enough.

She whirled around and sprinted up the boarding ramp, in time to spot Lonnie, Rogelio and Kyle emerging from the ship’s hold, pushing their empty cart back towards the ramp.

“Uh, hey, team! New orders just came in – we need to shove off _right away_.”

They glanced at each other. It was Kyle who spoke. “Uhhh…we’re just cadets, Adora.”

Adora’s smile grew wider and more frantic. “Not…anymore! You’re all…getting field-promoted! Yup! Now let’s get this ship moving!”

They exchanged a round of shrugs. Then, to Adora’s relief, Lonnie pointed the other two towards a pair of moorings.

As they set to work, the door to the hold slid open again. Out stepped a heavily-built woman with white hair, enormous red pincers for forearms, and a thin tail capped by a stinger: Force Captain Scorpia. Off to the left, Lonnie grimaced, slipping into the ship’s control room before Scorpia could spot her – the Force Captain glanced in that direction for a second, but then noticed Adora, and waved.

“Well hey there, fellow Force Captain! Uh, quick question: are the greenish-gray boxes supposed to stack? Because, wow, I…can _not_ get them to stack.”

“That’s great!” Adora declared as the ship’s hover engines began to whine. “Uh, why don’t you just…step ashore, and–”

“You know what? You’re right: it _is_ great! Because I…am gonna sort it out. Thanks for the pep talk, Adora.”

With that, Scorpia disappeared back into the hold.

 _That’s fine!_ Adora thought to herself. _She’ll just…come along. It’s fine._

“Hey, Adora!” Lonnie called out through an open window. “Moorings are cleared, engines are all fired up. You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Pull up the ramp and punch it.”

Lonnie tapped a button, and with a mechanical whirring, the boarding ramp began to retract. It was just in time – when Adora looked over to the dock, she found Octavia skidding to a halt. She was carrying training gear, which she dumped unceremoniously to the ground…all except the practice sword. That, she threw – but it bounced harmlessly off the side of the hull, and fell to the water with a splash.

_Sorry, Octavia. But I’ve got my own mission…and you’re not a part of it._

The ship lurched forward, and Adora turned away.

Catra woke up to a knocking from above, followed by Glimmer’s muffled voice.

 _“We’re here_.”

She blinked a few times. She was in still in the dimly-lit hold, curled up against the wall. How long had she been napping? She stood up and took a moment to stretch, before throwing open the hatch and climbing up onto deck. The daylight from earlier had given way to the orange and pink of dusk, illuminating the spindly whitish towers that surrounded them. The more she stared at those towers, the more bizarre details she noticed; they were almost organic-looking, each with a unique rounded shape.

The kingdom was split down the middle by a waterway, wide enough to allow even the largest ships through. It carved a straight path through the city, until at the end, a pair of towers fused together into a massive arch. And beneath that arch, blocking the waterway, was a shimmering blue-white force field: the Sea Gate.

There was something off about it, though. The force field was covered in tiny little holes. Each time a wave lapped at the gate, a bit of water leaked through. Was it damaged? That didn’t seem good.

Well, they’d find out soon enough.

The others were already ashore. Catra stepped over towards the side of the boat, warily eyeing the slight gap between it and the dock. She steeled herself. Then she took a great big leap, sailing high over the gap. She landed on her feet, but skidded past the others, nearly crashing into someone else – a guard, clad in blue-green, holding a spear.

“Watch it,” she hissed, doing her best to play it cool as she stood up and brushed herself off.

The guard, unfazed, cleared his throat. “Welcome to Salineas, travelers. State your business.”

She crossed her arms. “We’re here to see Princess what’s-her-name.”

The guard gave her a dour look. “Mermista, I presume.”

Catra shrugged. “Eh, rings a bell.”

“And is the Princess expecting you?”

“Oh, I don’t think she’ll turn down an audience with _She-Ra_.”

Catra patted the sword on her back. The guard’s eyebrows raised, just a hair.

“And _Sea Hawk_!” the captain declared, stepping forward and striking a pose.

“Yes. Very well. I will inform the Princess that She-Ra requests an audience.”

“AND–”

“He heard you, buddy,” Bow said as the guard hurried up a staircase. Sea Hawk pouted; Glimmer patted him on the shoulder.

They were there for a while, standing around awkwardly. Her allies weren’t usually this quiet. Maybe they were still thinking about all the ways they could _fix_ her.

“Shouldn’t there be more people?” Bow wondered aloud.

Catra looked around; she hadn’t really noticed, but the dock was completely empty. No other ships, no other sailors…nothing. She looked up at the spires of the kingdom. There were no signs of life up there, either.

“This whole place looks abandoned,” she said, eyes narrowing as she widened her stance. If this was all just a trap…

She heard quick footsteps. She reached for her sword – but lowered her hand as the guard from before skidded into view, out of breath.

“Princess…Mermista…will see you now.”

Bow and Catra exchanged glances. She hesitated. But she’d come too far to turn back. So when the guard set off again, she followed.

It was a long walk, up winding staircases and through cavernous, empty buildings. There was still no sign of anyone else. Not until they reached their destination: a vaulting throne room. The floor was a polished deep blue, and the walls were covered in pastel-colored murals, broken up by four waterfalls that ran all the way down from the ceiling. On the far end was a massive blue throne; with its smooth curves and seaweed decor, it looked as if it had been plucked straight from the sea floor.

Lounging on that throne was Princess Mermista. Her hair was dark blue, and her outfit was teal and gold. It looked lightweight and surprisingly practical, with full-length pants, and no cape or shawl to slow her down. Catra wondered how it would look without the pauldrons or shoes…and, of course, in red–

Right. Later.

She cleared her throat. But before she could speak, Sea Hawk strutted confidently up to the throne, leaning onto it, resting his head on his hand.

“Mermista! It has been _far_ too long. How I’ve missed your beauty.”

“Uggggggh.” Mermista glared at Catra. “Why did you bring _him_ …?” she asked, her voice dripping with irritation.

Sea Hawk grinned. “These fair people sought out a captain of _particular_ daring–”

“He owns a boat,” Catra corrected.

“Oh, really? He hasn’t _set it on fire_ yet?”

All eyes turned to Sea Hawk. He grinned mischievously. “I _have_ been known to do that.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, ignore the idiot. Hey – I’m Catra. But you can call me She-Ra.”

Mermista’s irritation turned to boredom, or at least the impression of it. “Oh. Is that for real? I thought She-Ra was, like, gone forever, or something.”

With a smirk, Catra drew the sword from her back, and held it aloft. “For the honor of Grayskull.”

The transformation was always a rush, but this time, she just wanted to get it over with, so she could see the awe on Mermista’s face. She wasn’t disappointed. It took the princess a good long while to stop gawking, and go back to her feigned indifference.

“That’s, like…pretty cool, I guess…”

“If you think _that’s_ cool, you should see me rip tanks in half. Actually, you might get the chance – ‘cause I’m making a new Princess Alliance.”

“Huh. Wasn’t the last one, like, a total disaster…?”

“The last one didn’t have _me_.”

“Riiight…I mean, that’s…super convincing and everything…but I’m kind of in the middle of something here?”

“What is it?” Glimmer asked. “Maybe we can help.”

Mermista shrugged. “I mean, it’s just, like, the Horde won’t stop attacking? And the Sea Gate is falling apart, so their next attack will probably, like, kill us all.”

“So that’s why there’s no one here,” Bow thought aloud. “They all evacuated.”

“Yeah,” Mermista replied. “But it’s my kingdom, so I’m supposed to go down with the ship or something…I mean, whatever. I’m fine with it.”

The princess’s attitude was starting to bore Catra. She allowed her eyes to wander, and found them drawn towards one of the murals on the wall. It was a stylized depiction of the Sea Gate, with someone standing on a platform in front of it. The art was vaguely familiar – she’d seen a mural like this a week ago, in an ancient ruin. And the lettering on the mural was familiar, too: First Ones writing. None of the others could read it. Apparently, nobody could…except for her.

_Section 3: Sea Gate Maintenance_

_Over time, Sea Gate nodes may lose their connection to the runestone. For optimal performance, administrators should perform a diagnostic annually. See diagram 3a._

Catra studied the mural more closely. The figure in front of the gate had a winged tiara and a sword in hand.

She turned to Mermista with a sly grin. “You’ve got weird taste in art.”

Mermista scowled. “Uhhh…those murals are the _cultural heritage_ of my _kingdom_.”

“Wrong.” Catra’s grin widened. “They’re instructions.”

“Wait. You can, like…read them?”

“Oh, you know, just one of my She-Ra powers. And it looks like fixing your gate is another one. Hey, I’ll even do it for free: all you have to do is sign up for my little recruitment drive.”

Mermista flopped back in her throne, and let out the longest groan Catra had ever heard. At last, she answered: “Fiiiiiine.”

Sea Hawk perked up. “My darling, Mermista, it would be my honor to escort you–”

The princess jabbed a thumb towards him. “But _he_ waits with his boat.”

Catra snorted. Now _there_ was something they could agree on.

Adora gazed out at the horizon. One of the moons was setting, and another two weren’t far behind, casting the clouds in brilliant orange. It was beautiful.

She wondered if Catra was looking up at those same clouds.

Once again, Adora began to rehearse what she would say. But her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door, and heavy footsteps from behind. She groaned quietly. Scorpia was back.

“You’re not gonna believe this!” the other Force Captain declared as she approached. “The green-gray boxes…fit on top of the _red-gray_ ones!”

Adora didn’t turn to look. “That’s…great, Scorpia. I’m…really glad you got that sorted out.”

“You know me, just doin’ my part for the mission!”

There was a pause as Scorpia leaned onto the railing next to Adora.

“You know, I feel kinda dumb asking, but…aren’t we supposed to be in dock?”

“Change of plans,” Adora replied. She left out the details.

“Right! Gotcha. New, top secret orders! Oh, man…that is cool.”

Adora hadn’t gone against her orders…technically. But she was certainly interfering with Shadow Weaver’s plans, and for the express purpose of protecting Catra. So this had better work. Because if it didn’t, Shadow Weaver would probably strip her of rank – or worse. And then she’d be in no position to save her friend.

“Soooo…” Scorpia continued, “what do you need from me, boss?”

“Huh?”

“Ahhh…playing things close to the chest. Got it. Ya know, you’re a real slick customer, Adora. Whatever this mission is, I can tell we’re in capable hands.”

Right. Adora had been so busy trying to ignore all the inane box-stacking progress reports that she’d totally forgotten to factor Scorpia into her plans.

The other Force Captain could very well complicate things. After all, she would attack Catra on sight, and Catra would no doubt return the favor. But, if they could be kept separate…a veteran fighter might be a useful distraction. Assuming Scorpia _was_ a veteran fighter. She was supposed to be, but Adora had her doubts.

“Force Captain! Uh…Captains!” It was Kyle’s voice. “There’s something up ahead!”

The pair of them walked over to the bow, where Kyle was engrossed in his telescope. Adora tapped him on the shoulder; he jumped, and then sheepishly handed it over.

She scanned the horizon. There, between two long stretches of treacherous rock – a cluster of pearl-white towers, in the shape of seashells. There was a passage leading through the middle of them, but it was blocked by a force field. She zoomed in further, and found a platform in front of that force field, about two thirds of the way up. A group of figures were clustered there. She recognized two of them from the Horde’s princess dossiers: Glimmer from Bright Moon, and Mermista from Salineas. There was an unfamiliar boy with them, as well. But most importantly, she spotted a towering woman dressed in white and gold, with long blonde hair and cat ears.

Seeing Catra again made her heart pound. So many memories came bubbling up at once: Catra’s laugh, her cocky grin, her touch, her fearful eyes, the crackle of a stun gun – Adora’s breathing grew shallow. She had to lower the telescope and take slow, deep breaths. It was a few seconds before she felt back in control.

She brought it to her eye again, focusing once more on Catra – no, on She-Ra. Sure, her best friend was under there…the one she’d let down. But if she couldn’t keep her cool, then she wouldn’t be able to help. So, at least for the moment, the person in the tiara wasn’t Catra. It was She-Ra.

It seemed to help. For the first time, she was able to study her target with something approaching a level head. The outfit looked ridiculous, to be sure, with its cape, half-skirt, and pointy shoulder pads. But the woman wearing it was another story. She stood a full head above her tallest companion, and though her broadsword wasn’t much shorter than Princess Glimmer, she carried it around one-handed. No wonder her arms were so well-toned. Her hair was lovely, too, still a little messy but not–

This was not useful information.

Adora lowered the telescope, and went over her plan one more time. An attack on the Sea Gate would draw the rebels out to fight – and she had Scorpia to keep them busy, and keep the ship’s cannon firing. With any luck, that would give Adora the window she needed.

She turned to Scorpia. “When we get into range, I want you to start firing at the Sea Gate – but _do not_ hit that platform in front of it. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” Scorpia saluted with a pincer. “Ohhh, this is exciting! I’ll bet you’re gonna be sneaking over there, doing your top-secret mission!”

Adora looked back into the telescope. Back at She-Ra.

_Hang on, Catra._

Catra reached over the edge of the platform, trying not to think about the water far below. She tapped the force field, and ripples spread outward, traveling a good distance but fading long before they reached the arches that framed the gate. Being this close made the scale of it much more apparent. Those tiny little holes she’d seen from the ground? A person could fit through them.

Somehow, she was supposed to fix this thing.

“So, you can, like…do your thing now,” Mermista said, crossing her arms impatiently.

“Hey! Trust me, you do _not_ want me to rush this.”

Yeah, that was it: she was just being cautious. She certainly wasn’t grasping at straws, trying to figure out what to do.

She thought back to the mural. It showed She-Ra with her sword out in front of her. Maybe that pose was important?

She took a step back, and raised the sword, so that the tip was nearly touching the gate. She closed her eyes, waiting to see if she felt anything.

There was…something. A gentle tug at the back of her mind, a bit like how the sword called her to when she prepared to transform. But it was weaker, and…sharper. She tried to concentrate on it; as she did, a strange tingling crept up her arms.

Slowly, an image began to form in her mind. It was a diagram of the gate, showing hundreds of little colored dots. Some were a steady blue. Others flashed red.

She opened her eyes, and found a beam of light connecting her sword to the gate. But she could still see the diagram, too. It felt like her mind was halfway between her body and the gate…it was making her dizzy.

“Is it working?!” Bow asked excitedly.

“Shut up! Let me concentrate.”

She closed her eyes again – it helped – and examined one of the red nodes. A long list of information appeared. She could read it all, but it seemed like very technical stuff, and it meant nothing to her. She understood the two words at the very bottom, though: “full reset”. She focused on them, and after a moment, the rest of the info disappeared. The node turned yellow. Then, to her relief, it turned blue.

One down. Two hundred to go.

But as she turned to the next red node, she heard a distant electric crackle. It made her hair stand on end. A few seconds later, she heard something else: an explosion. As the platform shuddered beneath her feet, dozens of nodes turned red, and a jolt of electricity shot up her arms.

She opened her eyes and wrenched the sword away from the gate – the diagram vanished, and left her with a sudden, splitting headache. She clutched her forehead as she turned around, struggling to find the source of the attack. There, off in the distance: a Horde warship hovering just above the water, with its main gun still smoking.

“They’re aiming for the gate!” Glimmer shouted.

Bow peered over the side of platform. “They blew a hole in it!”

Catra couldn’t help a smile. Finally! Something to beat up.

“We need to take out whoever’s on that gun,” she declared. “Come on, Sparkles, get me over there.”

“Uh, _we_ can deal with that,” Mermista pointed out. “ _You_ need to keep the gate from, like, totally falling apart.”

“What, you want me to just stand here?!”

“I think she’s right,” Bow said, looking over the side again. “The gate is in really bad shape down there…!”

She was the best fighter here, and she was stuck trying to repair this stupid thing…? How was that fair? But she gritted her teeth, and reminded herself: saving the gate meant getting another princess under her command.

“Fine! But you idiots better not screw up.”

As Glimmer and Bow teleported away, and Mermista dove off the platform, Catra turned back to the gate. She closed her eyes and raised her sword, focusing once again on that connection in her mind. The tingling returned, and the diagram reappeared.

She went through red nodes as quickly as she could, resetting them and moving on. When a second explosion rocked the platform, she did her best to tune it out – but that wasn’t easy, considering it knocked out another thirty nodes, and gave her another nasty shock. If there was a third cannon shot, she might just go down there and deal with that ship herself.

But then, she heard a voice. A familiar one.

“Catra.”

Her eyes shot open. Adora…?!

She turned to look – there was her friend, wearing her stupid red jacket, standing at the edge of the platform. Her hands were empty; no weapon.

That was all Catra could glean before the dizziness became too much, and she had to shut her eyes again. The diagram blinked insistently in her head, but she couldn’t focus on it.

“I’m sorry, Catra. Last time…I let you down.”

She scoffed. “Oh, you ‘let me down’, huh?”

“You were panicking, and…and I panicked, and I…I just…I’m so, so sorry.”

Adora paused. She took a deep breath.

“Please come home.”

Catra was silent.

“I…really miss you,” Adora added, her voice wavering.

Catra felt a lump in her throat.

There was another explosion, much closer and louder than before. The platform shook violently, and Catra lost her footing – she would’ve tumbled over the side if the force field hadn’t been there to catch her. The diagram vanished; she cried out as her vision went blurry, and her head began to pound.

She stayed there for a moment, leaning against the gate, as her sight gradually returned. When it did, she looked over towards Adora – and found her friend lunging forward. Not towards her…towards the sword she’d dropped. Adora was trying to steal it!

Frantically, Catra pushed herself off from the force field, and stamped down on the blade, shaking the platform. She was just in time; Adora grasped the hilt a split-second later, but was unable to pull it free.

She looked up. Their eyes met.

“Catra, I–”

Catra shoved her, and she went tumbling backwards, nearly sliding over the far edge of the platform. Then Catra picked up her sword, and leveled it at her so-called ‘friend’.

“You…just wanted _this_?!”

She burst out into hysterical laughter as the other girl struggled back to her feet.

“I can’t believe it! All those years, and I’m _still_ falling for your little act!”

“Catra, listen to me, please! The sword, it-it’s controlling you – we need to get rid of it!”

“Get rid of it…? Oh, I’m just getting _started_ with it. I’m gonna take down the Horde with it! Starting…with you, _Force Captain_.”

As Catra stepped closer, weapon in hand, Adora whipped out her staff. Of course she hadn’t come unarmed.

“I don’t wanna do this,” she pleaded.

Catra grinned from ear to ear.

“I wouldn’t wanna fight me, either.”

Adora braced herself for the first attack. When it came, she dove aside, leaving She-Ra’s sword to cut deep into the platform. For a moment, it seemed like it might be stuck – but then the towering princess pulled it free with frightening ease, and turned menacingly, still wearing that manic grin. Whatever twisted force was in control of her, it was obviously enjoying itself.

Adora had been dreading this…and not _just_ because she had to see the hate and confusion and pain in Catra’s eyes. Not _just_ because she had failed to rescue her friend from this nightmare. No. There was something else on top of all that.

Catra had always been a dangerous fighter. She was incredibly nimble, her claws could go through metal armor, and she was never above fighting dirty. Now, on top of all that, she had superhuman strength, magical powers, and a gigantic sword. How could anyone survive against an opponent like that?

But She-Ra wasn’t fighting like Catra. She wasn’t making quick strikes against her opponent’s weaker side. She wasn’t using the terrain to her advantage. She was just swinging clumsily with the sword, telegraphing each attack with a huge windup, overcommitting to everything.

She was still dangerous. Any one of those swings could probably cut Adora in half. But so far, none of them were connecting. They weren’t even coming close.

Adora began to counterattack, following up each dodge with a jab to the gut, turning each duck into a strike to the legs. She-Ra weathered every hit with little more than a grunt…but the hits just kept coming. Eventually, she would tire. And when she did, Adora could finally throw that wretched sword into the sea.

Her foe’s grin had turned to a grimace. She-Ra cried out in rage as all her attacks went wide…until finally, she stopped swinging, and took a few steps back.

They both paused. Adora wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.

Then She-Ra smirked.

The sword began to glow, and the princess swung her sword without stepping into range. Adora paused for a split-second, before realizing what that meant – she threw herself to the ground, and a wave of magical light shot over her. She could the feel the heat on her back. A moment later, there was a hissing sound from behind Adora. She risked a glance: the attack had struck the Sea Gate, and cut a huge gash into it.

She-Ra didn’t seem to notice – or maybe she just didn’t care. She unleashed another magical barrage, forcing Adora to leap over it; Adora landed awkwardly, and turned just in time to spot her foe charging. She rolled away, jumping back to her feet as the princess skidded to a halt at the edge of the platform. But She-Ra had too much momentum. She wasn’t going to stop in time.

Her foot slipped over the edge, and she began to lose her balance. She was about to go tumbling over. A strike to her back would’ve made it certain. But instead, Adora circled around and whipped her staff into She-Ra’s chest; the princess stumbled backwards, to safety.

She stared.

“You’re… _taking it easy_ on me?!”

“I’m here to help you,” Adora replied, backing cautiously away. “Not hurt you.”

She-Ra stared down at her hands. “How are you…how am _I_ so…?!”

Adora could sense the rising panic. She took another step backwards, but her heel found nothing: she was at the edge of the platform now, with only the humming of the force field behind her.

Finally, She-Ra let out a scream of rage. As she lifted the sword over her head, it began to glow a brilliant blue. Then she leapt into the air for one final, desperate attack.

But it was slow and telegraphed, just like all her attacks. Adora dove aside with time to spare – and as the princess came down, there was a piercing electrical shriek.

Adora looked over. The tip of She-Ra’s sword had smashed into the Sea Gate and discharged all its magic, leaving a glowing blue scar that ran all the way to the top of the force field. The glow spread rapidly, until the entire gate was a uniform, brilliant blue.

For a moment, nothing else happened.

Then the force field exploded outwards, pushing She-Ra back, and throwing Adora off the platform.

As she plummeted towards the sea below, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the gate. The arches were still standing, but there was nothing between them anymore; the force field was gone.

She-Ra had destroyed the Sea Gate.

Catra stared at the empty arches for a long, long while. She was still struggling to process everything…to make sense of it all. How had she let Adora beat her? How had she let herself be tricked?

It wasn’t until a minute had passed – and she’d reverted from She-Ra – that she realized Adora wasn’t here anymore.

She turned and looked down. A figure in a red jacket was swimming out towards the distant Horde ship…returning victorious.

Adora had won. And Catra had lost.

“What…did you…do?!”

It was Mermista, her façade of indifference completely gone. Catra turned slowly to face her.

“It…wasn’t my fault. Adora. She tricked me!”

“We had the cannon under control – the Sea Gate was safe!”

“I didn’t–”

“But _you_ couldn’t keep your magic sword under control. And now…my kingdom is _done for_.”

“N-no! I can still fix it.”

“Uh, hello?” She gestured towards the empty arches. “There’s nothing left to fix!”

The princess glared a while longer. Catra shrank away.

Then, finally, Mermista buried her face in her hands. “Just…go. Get out of here. All of you.”

Catra tried not to look at Bow and Glimmer. She couldn’t bear to see their disappointment.

“What will you do?” Glimmer asked quietly.

Mermista was silent for a moment. “I’m staying.”

“Are you sure? We could–”

“Go,” she repeated. Then, without another word, she dove off the platform.

The walk back was long and quiet. There was no sign of the guard from before. No sign of anyone. Just three sets of footsteps, echoing through the empty halls of a dead kingdom.

Even Sea Hawk, when they reached him, was somber. Of course. He had seen the gate shatter. He had probably seen everything.

Catra stepped onto the boat, and wasted no time throwing open the hatch to the hold. She went slowly down the ladder, and shut the hatch above her. She was alone.

She screamed, tearing at her hair. Her fingers brushed against her headpiece, and she ripped it violently off, throwing it against the wall as hard as she could. It bounced off, and slid back over to her, coming to a halt next to her feet.

She stared at it: there were three new, deep scratches over the left eye. They were very obvious…and they would be there forever.

Just one more thing she’d permanently damaged.

Finally, she allowed herself to cry.


	7. In the Shadows of Bright Moon

Shadow Weaver clasped her hands tightly as the boarding ramp lowered. The first ones down it were a trio of cadets, who chattered excitedly, at least until they spotted the sorceress and jumped to attention. Next was Force Captain Scorpia, who beamed and gave a salute. They were all so very pleased with themselves.

But not Adora. She descended the ramp slowly, rubbing her arm, avoiding Shadow Weaver’s gaze. When she reached the end, her salute was quick and perfunctory.

“Mission accomplished!” Scorpia declared proudly. “We kept those rebels busy, and Adora here? She tricked _She-Ra_ into taking out the Sea Gate! Oh, man, it was _amazing_!”

“Yes,” Shadow Weaver replied coolly. “You said as much over the communicator. Lord Hordak is pleased.”

The cadets grinned from ear to ear, even the dour reptilian one.

But not Adora.

“You four are dismissed. _Adora_ …I would like a word.”

Scorpia and the cadets departed happily, one of them bragging about how she’d gone toe-to-toe with a princess. Adora stayed, still looking down at the dock.

“Hordak is pleased,” Shadow Weaver repeated. “ _I_ am not. You put your mission at risk, and acted to protect our most dangerous enemy. Your actions call your loyalty into question.”

Adora finally looked up, a sudden fire in her eyes. “She’s brainwashed and confused! How can you just…give up on her?!”

Beneath her mask, Shadow Weaver’s nostrils flared. Tendrils of shadowy magic circled around Adora as the sorceress floated higher into the air. “I will _not_ tolerate this disrespect,” she hissed. “Not even from you…Force Captain.”

The girl flinched, but stood her ground. And after a moment, she let out a breath. “I’m…sorry, Shadow Weaver.”

Much better. The sorceress sank to the ground, and allowed her shadows to dissipate.

“I know you’re just trying to protect me,” Adora continued, her words slow and even. “But she’s not our enemy. She needs our help.”

Silently, Shadow Weaver scolded herself for allowing those two to get so close. When they were children, it had seemed harmless…useful, even. Their friendship was something Shadow Weaver had leveraged many times before. But now, Catra had broken free of her control, and she was pulling Adora away as well.

It was hard to believe Adora’s childish attachment had survived all of the other one’s treachery. But apparently, it could survive just about anything. Which meant that killing the rogue cadet was no longer an option – if Shadow Weaver did, she might lose her grip on Adora entirely.

There was only alternative. Somehow, she had to bring the girl back.

She sighed, and allowed her eyes to sink. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “Perhaps I have allowed the situation to cloud my judgment. It is…difficult, watching you put yourself in so much danger.”

“I know,” Adora said quietly. “But I, I have to.”

“No,” Shadow Weaver replied firmly. “There is another way. I should’ve done it from the start…I can see that now.”

Adora looked suspicious, just for a second, before Shadow Weaver finished.

“I will bring her back to the Fright Zone. Unharmed.”

“You…what?”

After a moment, Adora offered a smile.

“That’s…th-thank you, Shadow Weaver!”

“The magic required will be strenuous, and I must not be disturbed. Therefore, I would like you to accompany me, and guard the entrance to my chamber.”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver! I’d be honored.” Adora saluted again, this time with her usual fervor.

Shadow Weaver smiled to herself. This was the Adora she remembered – the loyal, perfect soldier that she’d so carefully groomed – the one who had disappeared after Thaymor, and been replaced by a desperate, disobedient child.

All she had to do now was bring home the other one.

The trip back to Bright Moon had been long and dull. It gave Catra plenty of time to think about her next move. For starters, she had to preserve the Princess Alliance, which meant appeasing Queen Angella.

It wouldn’t be easy. Not once she found out about the Sea Gate.

When Catra closed her eyes, she could still see that bright blue flash. She could still see the empty arches. And she could still see Mermista’s look of fury. The whole point of the mission had been to make a new ally…instead, Catra had made a new enemy.

It wasn’t her fault.

She repeated that sentence over and over in her head: it wasn’t her fault. She’d been tricked, by someone who was _supposed_ to be her friend.

But the queen wouldn’t accept that, would she?

Catra’s first instinct was to lie. But Bow and Glimmer knew the truth, and after what they’d seen, they would never stick up for her. They’d call her out, and then things would be even worse.

So what was left? A groveling apology? Begging the queen for forgiveness? Just the thought of it made Catra shudder. It wasn’t fair! She shouldn’t have to apologize for anything! It wasn’t her fault.

It wasn’t her fault.

She looked up. Just ahead of her, Bow and Glimmer trudged onward; beyond them, at the end of a long bridge, loomed the great hall of Bright Moon. A line of guards was waiting at the entrance, flanking the queen, whose expression was calm and reserved.

For now.

Glimmer looked back over her shoulder, and spoke for the first time in a long while: “Let me handle this. Okay?”

Catra didn’t reply.

As they got closer, the queen’s expression turned to worry. “Glimmer,” she asked as they reached her, “is everything alright?”

“Uh…we’re fine, Mom. It’s just been a long mission.”

Angella gave her a dour look. “Please don’t tell me you engaged the Horde again…”

“We didn’t have a choice,” Bow interjected. “The Horde attacked while we were looking at the Sea Gate.”

Glimmer glared at him for just a split-second, before turning back to her mom. “Like I said – long mission.”

“And what of Princess Mermista?”

“Uh…she…decided not to join the Alliance.”

The queen raised her eyebrows, and put her hands on her hips. “Glimmer…I know you’re keeping something from me. What happened?”

Glimmer rocked back and forth on her heels. “Weeell…the Sea Gate…kinda got…destroyed.”

Angella’s eyes widened. “Destroyed…?! By the Horde?!”

Glimmer was quiet.

Slowly, the queen’s eyes turned to Catra. They narrowed.

There was a moment of silence.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Catra finally spat. “Adora–”

She cut herself off; her claws were cutting into her palms. She took a breath, and relaxed her fingers.

“One of their _Force Captains_ tricked me.”

“I don’t…how…how could you be so _careless_?!” the queen stammered. “Without the Sea Gate, Salineas is defenseless – and Bright Moon is vulnerable to attack!”

Catra could feel her claws digging in again. It wasn’t her fault! She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Well, that wasn’t true. She’d certainly been too weak and too stupid to keep her enemies from using her.

Glimmer tried to intervene. “Mom, if Catra hadn’t been there–”

“No, Glimmer! I will hear no further excuses for her behavior!” Angella rubbed her temples for a moment, before turning back to Catra, her eyes like drills. “You have done irreparable damage to our cause…and brought doom to a thousand-year-old kingdom.”

Catra’s jaw was clenched. Her hands were shaking. She closed her eyes for a moment, but all she could see was…

“It was Adora!” she screamed, glaring up at the queen. “She _used_ me. She abandoned me! She stabbed me in the back, she…sh-she…”

There were tears in Catra’s eyes. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She was struggling to breathe.

“Mom!” Glimmer’s voice again. “It was an accident! And she feels terrible about it!”

Catra wanted to protest. She wanted to say that, no, she felt fine. She didn’t care about their gate, or their mission – she wasn’t weak and emotional like them.

The words died in her throat.

“Your majesty,” Bow added carefully. “Catra’s been through…a lot. She needs time to rest. In the meantime, maybe I can fill you in on everything?”

The queen hesitated. She gave Catra one final scowl. Then she turned to Bow, and her anger receded.

“Very well. We shall finish this conversation tonight. Glimmer, escort Catra to her room.”

Catra bristled. “I don’t need an _escort_.”

They all looked at her, and she looked back at them. Bow was wearing his usual look of pity. Angella was barely holding back her fury. But Glimmer? Glimmer offered a pleading look, and a hand. _Come on,_ her eyes said. _I’m trying to get you out of here_.

Catra grimaced. “Fine.”

She pushed the princess’s hand aside…but she was gentle about it. And when Glimmer turned to leave, Catra followed her out.

They walked down the halls of Bright Moon in silence, passing by a handful of stoic, armored guards. Catra did her best to ignore them, and the silent judgment they passed on her. They all hated her, didn’t they?

It was a relief when the princess stopped at the door to Catra’s bedroom. Catra pushed the door open, but as she did, Glimmer cleared her throat.

“Can I, uh…come in?”

Catra glanced over, studying her. She looked nervous, tapping her fingers awkwardly together. But there was still no anger or pity in her expression. And for that, Catra was willing to hear her out.

She stepped through the door in silence, but held it open, allowing the princess in. Then she closed it behind them, and crossed over to the bed. It was luxuriously over-fluffed, practically a mountain of cushions…she rubbed her hand along the soft material, purring slightly, at least until she caught herself. Hastily, she took a seat.

“Sorry about Mom,” Glimmer offered. “She can be…a lot.”

Catra crossed her arms, and allowed her eyes to wander around the room. “Whatever. I don’t need her approval – she can hate me all she wants.”

“She doesn’t hate you!” Glimmer insisted. “I mean, she yells at _me_ all the time.”

Catra gave her a sidelong glance.

The princess put her hands on her hips. “She doesn’t hate me, either! I mean…we’re family.”

What did that matter? The Horde called itself a family – but that didn’t stop all the others cadets from hating her.

And it didn’t stop Shadow Weaver.

Catra hunched over as she remembered suffocating darkness. The crackle of electricity. Her body locking up. Cruel white eyes tearing into her from behind a cold mask.

_Riiip_. She winced; her claws had cut into the bed.

The cushions shifted slightly as Glimmer sat down next to her, a little bit too close for comfort. Catra shuffled away, the sword digging into her back as she did. She grunted, and then leaned forward, adjusting the ropes that were slung over her shoulder.

“You know,” the princess began, “you don’t have to wear that thing on your back all the time.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “It makes _She-Ra_ happen. I’m not gonna leave it lying around – it’ll get stolen.”

“What? Nobody here is gonna steal it!”

She scoffed. “You really think so? ‘Cause I’ll bet your mom would _love_ to get this thing into someone else’s hands.”

“Huh? I thought it picked _you_ to be She-Ra. Do you really think it’ll just work for anybody…?”

She was silent. She’d said too much.

After a moment, Glimmer’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, ooh, lemme try it!”

Catra’s hair stood on end. “What?”

“Come on, I’d make a great She-Ra!”

No…please, no. Not her, too.

Catra leapt from the bed, reaching frantically for her back – the sword was still there. She turned to the confused princess, and narrowed her eyes.

“She-Ra’s _mine_ , Sparkles. You got that?”

“Um…y-yeah, I didn’t…”

Didn’t think she would catch on? It was obvious now. Why else would Glimmer be here, trying to buddy up with her? The princess just wanted to get her hands on the sword. Then, at last, she could get rid of Catra – that reckless, careless, worthless loser who was the price of getting She-Ra.

But it wasn’t going to happen. Like it or not, the princess was stuck with Catra. They all were.

She was NOT going to be thrown away a second time.

“Catra, wait, I was just…I didn’t mean to–”

“Save it, princess,” she retorted as she marched towards the door. “You can go tell your mom it didn’t work!”

With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Catra stalked through the halls of Bright Moon, glowering at nothing in particular. She was no fan of this place. Most of the walls were a garish lavender, adorned with pretentious gold trim. Everything was sparkly and shiny and open – there was never anywhere to hide if things went bad. And, of course, there were those stoic guards, watching her every move…waiting for her to slip up.

Just like Sparkles.

She cursed herself for being such an idiot. Why would she let her guard down again? Why, after everything she’d been through, would she believe that some princess she’d known for a week would actually care about her?

Of _course_ it was just a ploy for the sword. Just like the last time.

Catra grimaced as she remembered the fight. All her magic, all her power, and she hadn’t even _touched_ Adora.

Shadow Weaver had been right about everything.

Her palms hurt again…but then, something distracted her; something that made her tail fray and her hair stand on end. It was the feeling she got all around Bright Moon: the feeling of being watched. But this particular hallway was empty. Right?

She spun around, and found only the cavernous corridor. No one in sight…and nowhere to hide.

Then she jumped as a guard brushed past her from behind. She let out a hiss; the guard ignored her, and marched on.

Once the armored woman turned the corner, Catra slapped herself in the face. She’d let a _Bright Moon guard_ sneak up on her! How was she so off her game…?

It wasn’t just today, either. Since becoming She-Ra, she’d lost most of her fights: by her count, she had two wins and five losses. Five losses! Some hero she’d turned out to be.

If Adora had gotten the sword, she would probably be an expert She-Ra by now. And everybody would just love her, wouldn’t they? They’d all be friends, and everything would be great. She would’ve saved the Sea Gate, too. And where would Catra be? With the Horde…losing to Adora.

No matter where she was, or what side she was on, Catra was pathetic.

She got down on all fours, and set off at a sprint. She was sick and tired of these awful hallways – she needed to get out, now. She ran and ran, past row after row of closed doors…until, finally, she reached an open archway, with daylight pouring through.

She skidded to a halt, and stood upright. Ahead of her was a balcony – a big one, with grass, trees, and one of those little ponds that the architects of Bright Moon seemed so fond of. She stepped cautiously through, wary of more guards. But there was no one else here.

It took a minute, but eventually, her eyes stopped darting around, searching for danger. Her shoulders slumped. Her tail began to swish gently back and forth. She let out a sigh as the warm wind blew through her hair.

Then, finally, she was able to see the view.

The dark green canopy of the Whispering Woods extended off to the horizon, where it met the clear blue sky, with its fluffy white clouds, and a trio of pale moons. She looked down, and found the light blue water of the bay, its calm surface reflecting the huge pillars of rock that rose up from the right, and climbed far above the castle. In the middle of the bay was the golden Moonstone tower, where the stone itself glowed softly. And to the right was the cream-colored main hall – tall and imposing on its own, yet dwarfed by the rocky columns behind it.

Slowly, Catra walked over to the edge of the balcony. She took a seat, propping up one knee, resting her hand on it as she peered over the edge. She could see the shoreline below, where rebel soldiers were camped. They were like little bugs from up here.

The view was nothing like her old platform in the Fright Zone. But…it wasn’t bad. Just different.

She could get used to it.

But then, from some lower floor of the castle, she heard a voice. It was distant and soft, coming through some unseen window. But it was unmistakably the queen’s.

“That girl’s actions are unforgivable. She has no place among us.”

Catra froze. The queen complaining about her was nothing new. But somehow, this time sounded different. More serious.

A second voice answered – it belonged to the general with the scar on her nose.

“I agree, your Majesty. But how should we proceed? She _is_ still She-Ra.”

“She-Ra or not, we cannot turn a blind eye to her behavior. Not this time. Gather your most trusted and capable guards – we’ll need to strike quickly, before she realizes what’s happening.”

Well. That was it, then. Catra was no longer welcome here. And the new Princess Alliance was done for…killed off by the short-sightedness of an arrogant, cowardly queen. Just another jealous fool trying to hold her back.

“And general? Ensure the dungeon is ready to receive a new prisoner.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Catra’s ears shot up. A terrible chill ran down her spine. She’d let her guard down again, hadn’t she? She’d assumed they were throwing her out. But no…they were going to lock her up again. Of course they were. Why would they let her leave with the sword? No. They would take it from her, and then throw her someplace where they’d never have to deal with her again.

But she still had the sword, didn’t she? If they came for her, she would fight her way out!

Or maybe she would just lose again.

She really had tried to start a new life here…but she had to know when to cut her losses. She would use whatever time she had left to gather supplies for the road – and then she would leave, before the guards made their move.

She scurried back through the archway, listening carefully for footsteps as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior. There were no guards nearby, fortunately. But the castle was still crawling with them – there was no way to avoid them all. Maybe that was fine? After all, they didn’t have their new orders yet. And by the time they did, she’d be long gone.

She set off down the hall, keeping a close eye on every intersection and door. They were potential ambush points, but also potential escape routes. Oh, sure, she _probably_ had a little time before the guards came for her. But she was _not_ going to be caught off guard again. She would take no chances.

Of course, that meant not telling Bow and Glimmer that she was leaving. What if they alerted the queen? Or worse, what if they tried to restrain her?

No. Obviously, she couldn’t tell them. And besides, they weren’t even her friends!

So why, then, did she want to see their stupid faces one last time?

She stole a shoulder bag from the supply room, along with a few canteens. She stole a few days’ worth of food from the kitchen. And she stole a sewing kit from the tailor’s – as she’d learned, the Whispering Woods were pretty rough on clothes.

She thought a little about her destination. She had an ally in Plumeria, one who might stay loyal even if Bright Moon didn’t; but of course, the flower people would get pretty annoying after a while. On the other hand, Seaworthy was the kind of rough-and-tumble place where she might fit in…but only if she kept her feet squarely on dry land.

She was still debating between the two when she spotted the door up ahead – the door to Glimmer’s bedroom. She slowed her pace, wrestling with herself: why was she taking this risk? Why not just leave now? Okay, they’d been decent to her a few times. And, yeah, they were the only people who had even pretended to care about her since all of this started. But that didn’t mean she could trust them! Trusting people was how she kept getting hurt.

Before she could reach a decision, however, she heard murmurs through the wall. Was it the two of them? What were they saying? She held her bag steady, and crept silently closer.

_“She’s really been a pain,”_ Glimmer said. _“I’m fed up with it.”_

_“I don’t think she’ll ever be one of us,”_ Bow replied. _“She’s a Horde soldier at heart.”_

Catra winced.

The princess continued: _“I think she’s still a spy for them. That’s why I told Mom to lock her up.”_

Catra’s eyes shot open. Glimmer had been the one…after everything she’d said…?

No. It had all been a lie, hadn’t it? Just one long ploy for the sword. An act, one that Catra had been too weak and too stupid to see through.

Just like with Adora.

She couldn’t hold back the tears.

She ought to leave. She knew that. Those two would _certainly_ alert the guards if they saw her – worse, if she barged in right now, she might wind up teleported into a net arrow.

She needed to keep walking. She needed to move on.

But she couldn’t.

The whole world just kept tearing into her, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Not without clawing back. She tried to wipe away her tears, but more kept coming – so she gave up, and threw the door wide open, claws bared, ready to give that horrible, manipulative princess–

But the room was empty, and the voices were gone.

Catra stepped backward, eyes wide, heart pounding. “What…?” she muttered to herself. Her hair stood on end again. Something was wrong, deeply wrong.

“Catra…?”

It was the princess’s voice. Catra whirled around, and found Bow and Glimmer at the end of the hall. Of course, she realized: they’d heard her crying, and Sparkles had teleported them out. And _now_ they had the audacity to come talk to her, feigning worry.

“Drop the act!” Catra demanded, blinking furiously. “I heard everything!”

“Uh…okay,” Bow replied hesitantly. “I guess you…wanna hear more about my sonic arrow?”

“I KNOW WHAT YOU TOLD HER!” Catra screamed at Glimmer.

“What…?” the princess replied. Her look of shock was almost genuine. “Catra, I don’t…I don’t understand…”

“Fine,” Catra hissed. “Keep playing dumb. But I’m not as stupid as you think! I know you’ve been playing me this whole time! And guess what: it didn’t work. You’re _never_ getting She-Ra!”

“I don’t care about She-Ra!” Glimmer insisted. “I’m worried about _you_!”

Footsteps from behind. Catra spun around, and found a Bright Moon guard approaching. They were just trying to delay her…!

“Halt!” the guard called out. Catra was boxed in. There was only one way out. She turned back to the door and darted inside, across the room, to the open window at the far side. The edge of the Whispering Woods was below. If she could get to those trees, she’d be free…but it was quite a drop, and the wall below was too smooth to climb.

There was a twinkling sound. Glimmer’s voice came from behind.

“Catra, _wait_! Please!”

Catra gritted her teeth. She steeled herself.

She jumped.

She had a second or two to brace herself, as the trees rushed up to meet her. Then one of the branches slammed into her gut, and left her gasping for air. She stayed there for a moment, dazed, until she realized that she was slipping, about to tumble forward. In desperation, she reached with her claws – and they found purchase just as she began to fall. The world tumbled around her, making her feel queasy; but after a moment, everything stopped moving. It took her a second to realize she was hanging from the branch by her fingertips.

She stayed there for a moment, catching her breath, inspecting herself. She was fine – no permanent damage. All things considered, it was about the most graceful landing she could’ve hoped for.

She swung herself back, then forward, using the momentum to reach another branch. This time, her landing was clean, and from there she jumped down to the ground. But as she stood back up, she heard Bow’s voice.

“Catraaa!”

Were they were going to follow her into the woods?

Stupid question. Of _course_ they were. After all, she still had the sword.

With a scowl, she began to run.

Catra moved quickly and stealthily, spending much of her time in the treetops, leaving only the barest of trails. A skilled tracker would’ve struggled to follow her. The idiot princess and her idiot boyfriend? They didn’t stand a chance.

She dropped to the ground, ears twitching as she listened to her surroundings. Bird cries, rustling branches…but no shouting or footsteps. She’d lost them.

So why did she still feel like she was being watched?

She patted down her hair, and smoothed out her frazzled tail. Maybe it was just her nerves. But then again, there was something cold and familiar about the sensation. It made her feel like a child. Back when she’d lived every moment under the cruel, watchful eyes of…

There was a hiss from behind. Catra whipped around, and found a cloud of dark smoke rising from the ground. Its shape was humanoid, and a glowing red circle – an eye? – appeared on its face as it rose to its full, imposing height.

The silhouette sharpened. A long dress appeared, and long hair behind it. Its face was still blank and inhuman, yet something about it jogged Catra’s memory – something she didn’t quite understand. Not until the eye split into two, and they both turned a cold, familiar white.

It was Shadow Weaver.

Catra dropped her bag and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground, pushing away until she was backed against a tree trunk; the sword was pushing painfully against her spine. Her hands trembled as she stared up at the looming apparition. It watched her, unmoving, save for its eyes.

“Catra.”

“Y-you…how did you…”

“I’ve been watching the castle for some time. Waiting for the moment when we could speak – alone.”

“We have _nothing_ to talk about!”

Shadow Weaver tutted. “Is that any way to speak to me, after all I’ve done for you?”

“ _Done_ for me?!” Catra grasped tightly at the dirt. “You were _terrible_ to me!”

“Hmph. I was hard on you – but I won’t apologize. I made you _strong_. And the results speak for themselves.”

“Wh…what?”

The figure placed its hands together. “In a week, you’ve defeated two of my assault forces, and proven yourself the strongest warrior on all of Etheria. You must have earned such gratitude from your new allies.”

Catra was silent.

Shadow Weaver’s eyes widened. “No…they’ve been cruel to you, haven’t they?” She shook her head. “Of course. They don’t understand you. They feel threatened by you. Just as it was with me.”

Catra stared. “You…?”

“Oh, yes. I walked among them, once. I pushed them to fight the Horde – but they feared my power and resolve. They cast me out…and it was the Horde that took me in. Even after all I had done to oppose them, they gave me a place; they knew I was one of them, and saw that my potential was too great to squander.”

Catra’s hair stood on end. Was Shadow Weaver trying to convince her to come back?

“Hey, listen, I am _done_ with you and your Horde. I am _never_ going back to the way things–”

“No,” Shadow Weaver interrupted. “Things _will_ be different.”

The apparition extended its hand. Smoke swirled in its palm, forming a new shape: a metallic green hexagon, with a bat-winged Horde symbol on it. A Force Captain’s badge.

“I always hoped you might prove yourself worthy.”

Catra stared at the badge. ‘Force Captain Catra’…what an idea.

She imagined herself back in the halls of the Fright Zone, soldiers hurrying to get out of her way. Lonnie would have to salute her! And Adora – she would _finally_ be Adora’s equal.

It was everything she’d ever wanted, wasn’t it?

But it was coming from Shadow Weaver. There had to be a price.

“What do you want from me?”

Shadow Weaver blinked, as if the answer should be obvious. “I want to have a powerful warrior on my side. In fact, I can help you become even stronger. I know the legends of She-Ra better than most…did you know your sword contains a runestone? I can teach you to better channel its power.”

“And how do I know you won’t just lock me up?”

“Hmm. A wise question to ask. I have two answers: first, because you are more useful to the Horde as a Force Captain than as a prisoner. And second, because…whatever you may think of me…I _do_ care for you.”

Catra snarled. “That’s a lie!”

Shadow Weaver recoiled, as if stung. Her eyes lowered. In spite of herself, Catra felt a hint of guilt.

“If you’d prefer to be alone…then I will go.”

The apparition turned away.

This was it. Everyone else had abandoned her…betrayed her. This was her last connection to anyone else.

If Shadow Weaver left, she would be truly alone.

“W-wait!”

The apparition looked back at her as she climbed shakily to her feet. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. But it was all she had left. Shadow Weaver – the one she’d hated for all those years – was the only person in the world who still cared about her.

And as she stepped forward, Shadow Weaver offered the badge once more.

Then there was a pink flash – Catra jumped as Bow and Glimmer appeared in front of her, ready to fight. She dropped into a wide stance, claws at the ready…but, she realized, they had their backs to her.

“Get away from her!” Glimmer yelled at the apparition.

“Catra, are you hurt?” Bow called out over his shoulder.

Shadow Weaver eyed them with annoyance. “Ah…the so-called ‘friends’ who betrayed you. They are certainly persistent.”

“What are you talking about?!” Glimmer demanded. “We didn’t betray her!”

Catra clenched her fist. “I _know_ what you told the queen. You told her to throw me in the dungeon!”

She tensed up as Sparkles whirled around – but the princess’s hands were no longer glowing, and her jaw was agape. “What?! I didn’t tell her that! Why would I do that?!”

“Because you’re jealous and afraid of Catra’s power,” Shadow Weaver answered. “You saw an opportunity to get rid of her, and claim She-Ra for yourself.”

“Catra, I would never do that!” the princess pleaded. “I’m your friend…I promise!”

I promise…the words echoed through Catra’s mind. Her claws drew blood.

“And Bright Moon doesn’t even have a dungeon!” Bow added.

Huh.

He was right, wasn’t he? All Bright Moon had for prisoners was a spare room with some of the cushions removed.

And why was that? Because the rebels were soft, and weak, and naïve. They couldn’t accept the harsh realities of war. They just wanted to be friends with everyone.

Were they _really_ capable of manipulating her so ruthlessly?

No. They weren’t.

But Shadow Weaver was.

“Those voices,” Catra muttered. “They were all just illusions. Weren’t they?”

Bow and Glimmer looked at her, cocking their heads. But she looked past them, at the apparition.

Its eyes narrowed.

“I offered you _everything_.”

“It was all just another one of your games!” Catra shouted.

“ _Insolent child!_ ”

The badge vanished, and the figure threw out its arms; darkness surrounded the clearing, blotting out the daylight. Catra knew what came next. Her hands were trembling again.

But her fear wasn’t going to control her. Not anymore. She drew the sword and felt its light in her mind; her protection against the darkness.

“For the honor…of Grayskull!”

As she transformed, she thought about what the sorceress had said. How much had been lies? How much had been the truth?

One thing, at least, held up. After years and years of Shadow Weaver’s cruelty, Catra _was_ strong. Strong enough to overcome the sorceress’s tricks. Strong enough to escape her control. Strong enough to defy her.

When the light faded, the scared child was gone. In her place stood She-Ra.

The apparition attacked, tendrils shooting towards her – but she sliced through them with the sword, and sent the figure recoiling. The darkness faded as it backed away, looking up at She-Ra with just a hint of fear.

“Catra,” Shadow Weaver said, her voice almost soothing. “Don’t tell me you believe–”

Catra leveled the sword at her.

“Save it for Adora.”

The blade shot out a beam of golden light, and that light tore through the shadowy figure. It let out one last, piercing shriek; then it was gone.

Light poured from the cauldron, and then turned to a pillar of flame; the force of it threw Shadow Weaver across the room, and into the wall. She let out a cry of pain as she slumped over, covering her eyes from the hateful light until finally, mercifully, it faded away.

She’d been so close. She’d had Catra in the palm of her hand. But all for naught – those ridiculous children from Bright Moon had ruined everything.

The door slid open. There were quick footsteps. She tried to focus, but the room was still spinning; all she could see was a blurry red figure.

“Shadow Weaver! Can you hear me?”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. And she felt the pity that came with it.

She threw the hand aside.

That little sliver of exertion was too much; she fell back to the ground, coughing and sputtering. She could still feel Adora’s eyes on her. Never before had the girl had seen her in such a weak, pitiful state. Never before had the girl seen her lose.

And _certainly_ never to Catra.

As her vision returned, she began to claw her way towards the center of the room. Each movement was agony. The Black Garnet loomed high above, taunting her, just out of reach. But she would have it – and she did _not_ need Adora’s help.

At last, she reached the stone. She placed her palm against it, but no magic came. It was resisting her. Of course it was. But she would break its resistance, as she always did. She pushed aside every other thought, and focused on all the terrible things she would do to Catra, and the princesses, and – while she was at it – those incompetent, small-minded sorcerers who had thrown her out so many years ago.

Darkness poured from her fingers, enveloping the stone, until finally, she felt its power. In a moment, her pain was gone, and so was her weakness. She rose to her feet, keeping her palm against the stone, determined to squeeze out every last drop of energy.

The rush of magical power lasted a few seconds more; then it slowed to a trickle, and finally, stopped entirely. She stood up straight and sighed, reveling in the energy that was coursing through her body.

This power was hers. She’d earned it through decades of studying magic, and through unfaltering ambition. She had bent a runestone to her will – that was supposed to be impossible! Even her place in the Horde was earned through victory.

Not like the princesses, born into their power. Or Catra, who had merely stumbled upon hers by chance. Oh, she would enjoy dragging that unruly child back to the Fright Zone, and showing her what _true_ power looked like.

But Adora was still here, still watching in silence. Which meant Shadow Weaver had a role to play. She let out a heavy sigh, and let her voice sink low.

“I tried to reach Catra, but…the grip of the princesses is too strong. They’ve filled her mind with hate.”

“It’s the sword,” Adora insisted. “We _have_ to take away the sword. Then she’ll listen.”

Again with this? Adora’s delusion was, frankly, a little amusing.

But she was right about one thing: Shadow Weaver should have gone for that sword when she had the chance. Now Bright Moon would be on the lookout for her sorcery, and Catra would know to guard her weapon more jealously than ever.

Still…this hadn’t been a complete waste of time. There was no trace of suspicion or anger in Adora’s eyes – Shadow Weaver had regained her loyalty. It wasn’t absolute and unconditional, as the sorceress would’ve liked. But it was enough, for now.

“You’re right,” Shadow Weaver declared, bringing her hand to Adora’s cheek. “There is still hope. We must simply find an opportunity to separate her from the sword.”

She turned back towards her cauldron. The surface of the water still showed She-Ra, holding her sword aloft, with her allies alongside her. They seemed quite loyal to her…for some reason. What had Catra ever done to earn such affection?

Well, it wouldn’t matter. Shadow Weaver had an idea that would satisfy Adora’s little obsession, yet bring that renegade cadet under her complete control. A loyal, obedient Catra, wielding the power of She-Ra at her beck and call…it would be so perfect.

But first, she needed Catra in chains.

Perhaps it was time to give Adora another chance.

For a while, Catra stayed on guard, scanning the woods for any sign of danger…any sign that the apparition had survived.

But there was nothing. The shadows were gone.

She lowered the blade, and the magic in her body quickly faded away. It wasn’t that she wanted to change back – no, with the danger gone, she was just too exhausted to keep up her She-Ra form. She could feel Bow and Glimmer’s eyes on her as she dropped to one knee, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.

“What…was that?” Bow asked, a hint of terror still in his eyes.

“Shadow Weaver,” she answered. “It was…Shadow Weaver.”

“Did she hurt you?” Glimmer asked.

Catra let out a long, slow breath. “No.”

The princess hesitated. “Look…Catra…I don’t know what you heard, but I _swear_ , I didn’t–”

“I know.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“I know you’re worried about Mom, too,” Glimmer offered. “And, I mean, I think she knows that what happened was an accident. But even if she doesn’t – even if she tries to lock you away – there’s no prison in the world that can hold one of _my_ friends!” She struck a goofy little pose.

In spite of herself, Catra chuckled. The princess pouted for a moment, but then she giggled.

“Come on,” Bow said, giving a little smile. “I’ll bet you’re sick of these woods by now.”

He had no idea. It wasn’t easy, but Catra climbed to her feet, sword still in hand. She was ready to be anywhere but here.

Her companions started to walk back towards the castle; she followed them at a slight distance. Her eyes darted between the princess and the sword. There was something she couldn’t get out of her head.

“Wait,” she finally said.

The other two paused, turned, and exchanged a glance. Then they looked at her. She steeled herself.

“Back in the…uh, you mentioned that…”

She trailed off. Why were the words so hard to find?

“Ugh…here!”

She shoved the sword into Glimmer’s hands. The princess stared blankly at her, then down at the blade.

“You can try it,” Catra muttered. “Just this once.”

The princess burst into a grin. “Ohh, thank you thank you thank you! Whew, okay. Everybody…stand back!”

Bow took a nervous step backwards. Catra raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

Glimmer planted her feet, then raised the sword high into the air, her hands beginning to sparkle. Catra bit her lip and squeezed her fingers together. Would it work…?

“For the honor…of Grayskull!”

The seconds ticked by. Nothing happened.

Glimmer gave a disappointed sputter.

“Pffft. Oh well. Thanks for letting me try…but I guess there’s only one She-Ra!”

With another smile, she offered the sword to Catra – who snatched it back a little quicker than she’d meant to. She couldn’t help it. Having it back, feeling its warmth, made her feel so much safer.

As they set off again, Glimmer and Bow began chatting about their imaginary She-Ra forms, and how cool they would be. They described capes, hairstyles, and ridiculous accessories. But Catra ignored them. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

Maybe she really was the only She-Ra. Maybe the sword really had chosen her.

Maybe.

Or maybe it was still waiting for Adora.

For the rest of the day, they gave Catra space. She spent most of the time napping in her bedroom. She’d been a little anxious about what sleep might bring…but, to her relief, she didn’t dream.

And when she woke up, she wasn’t surprised to find the golden walls of her bedroom, or the orange light of dusk coming in from outside. This place was starting to feel…almost normal.

She finally, silently admitted what she had refused to for a whole week: this huge, luxurious bedroom was _way_ nicer than her old barracks in the Fright Zone.

Well, she wasn’t tired anymore. How should she spend her evening? She still had a lot on her mind. Perhaps she would go find that balcony again…hopefully, she could enjoy the view without Shadow Weaver whispering in her ear.

But, on the other hand, the bed was _so_ comfortable.

She was still debating that when she heard footsteps from outside; then came three quick knocks on her door.

_“Catra? May we talk?”_

She winced. It was Queen Angella.

Well…there was no point in running. Staying in Bright Moon meant facing the queen, and that would be over a lot faster than another misadventure through the woods.

Still, she pulled the sword out from under her pillow and slung it across her back. Just in case.

When she opened the door, she found the queen outside, alone – no guards. That was good. Her expression was…pensive. That was less good.

“Catra.” She cleared her throat. “I must apologize. I’ve heard about your… _encounter_ , and it leaves me appalled. Rest assured, this will _not_ happen again – I will see to it that Bright Moon is better defended against that horrible sorceress.”

The queen paused, waiting to see if Catra would reply. She didn’t.

“I also wish to say that…while the destruction of the Sea Gate is a _monumental_ tragedy…I accept, based on Bow and Glimmer’s testimony, that it was not your intention. And so, Bright Moon will continue to support this new Princess Alliance.”

Catra’s ears perked up. They’d actually convinced the queen…? She tried to think of a reply, but in the end, all she could offer was: “Good.”

“However,” the queen continued, her look turning stern. Catra’s ears drooped. “It is obvious that you do not have the experience to fully control She-Ra – and the Horde will now be eager to exploit this. You _must_ avoid further engagements with them.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “So you want me to just sit around here, doing nothing. Is that it?”

“No. I would like you to begin training with me.”

“What?!” Catra exclaimed. “That’s…I don’t…”

She trailed off, unable to convince even herself. After all, she had destroyed the Sea Gate. She had been beaten by a girl with a staff. She had no idea what she was doing. _Obviously_ she needed training.

But did it really have to be with the queen?

“I understand your hesitation,” Angella admitted. “But I am Bright Moon’s foremost expert on runestones – I believe I can help you not only to wield your powers more responsibly, but to unlock more of them, as well. According to legend, She-Ra is capable of far more than brute strength.”

Catra gritted her teeth. The thought of new powers was tantalizing…but the cost was steep.

“…Fine.”

She would try it. She’d even give it a week – she was feeling generous. But if the queen didn’t have anything useful to teach her by then, she was out.

Angella smiled. “Excellent. I wish you pleasant dreams, and I look forward to seeing you in–.”

Catra shut the door in her face.


	8. Princess Prom

When Catra threw open Glimmer’s bedroom door, she found Bow sitting on the bench, looking over some fancy scroll. The princess was next to him, peering at it with a wild-eyed, manic grin. But their eyes turned to Catra as she stormed in, plopped down next to them, and crossed her arms.

“Sooo…how was training?” Bow asked.

“Useless – as usual.” Catra shook her head. “It’s all ‘breathe slowly’ and ‘ponder this rock’! Yeah, great. Next time the Horde attacks, I’ll _think about rocks_.”

“Well, um, thanks for going anyway,” Glimmer offered. “I know it means a lot to Mom.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Catra glowered a bit longer, before glancing over at the scroll in Bow’s hands. It was pretty wordy…and was that a whole paragraph about stair-descending etiquette? She cocked her head.

Glimmer’s grin returned, wider than ever. “Hey! Hey! You’re a princess now!” she exclaimed.

“Uh, yeah? You don’t have to rub it in.”

“That means you get an invite!”

“To…what?”

“Every ten years,” Bow explained, “there’s a big ball for all the princesses of Etheria, called ‘Princess Prom’. It’s tonight!”

“And it is _super_ fun!” Glimmer shouted.

“Is it? Sounds kinda miserable.”

Not to mention ill-advised. All the princesses, away from their lands at the same time…did the Horde know about this?

“Aw, come on,” Bow said. “There’s food, and music, and dancing!”

Dancing – still no fun without a partner.

“Plus, Frosta’s hosting this year,” Glimmer noted. “And I’ll bet Entrapta’s going, too! We can recruit them both!”

The first name, in particular, caught Catra’s attention. Frosta was supposed to be an incredibly powerful princess, but she’d been refusing visitors for weeks – and now Catra knew why.

If Frosta had put a bunch of work into this thing, then going and making a good impression would go a long way. Still…a whole ballroom full of stuffy, stuck-up princesses, where there were rules for going down stairs?

Catra shuddered.

“It still sounds pretty awful. But…if Frosta’s hosting, then…I guess we have to go.”

Glimmer leaped up and pumped her fist. “Yeah! Prin-cess Prom! Prin-cess Prom!”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

“It’ll be great!” Glimmer insisted. “We’ll have all kinds of fun – just the three of us!”

Bow cleared his throat.

“Oh!” she said. “Right. You can also bring a plus-one! You know, if you want.”

Catra did not.

“Bow is mine!” Glimmer declared, sitting back down and wrapping an arm around him.

He looked nervous. That couldn’t be good.

“Uh, well, actually…I’m going with Perfuma.”

A second passed. Glimmer’s grin disappeared, and she pulled her arm away.

“What?!”

“She invited me when we were saving Plumeria.”

Catra stared at him. “And, what. You didn’t think to tell Sparkles?”

“I…didn’t think it was a big deal…”

“Uh, n-no!” Glimmer insisted, putting on a fake smile. “It’s not! It’s fine. That, um…it’ll be fun.”

Catra leapt up, turning her glare to the princess. “ _Fun?_ Don’t give me that. You _know_ he–”

“It’s fine!” Glimmer repeated. “Just…drop it! Okay?”

The two of them locked eyes. The princess didn’t look angry – she looked worried. Afraid.

“Please.”

Catra turned away. “Fine. I’ll ‘drop it’. Ugh…I’ve got an outfit to find, anyway.”

She paused.

“I’ll…find you before we head over. Okay?”

Bow piped up. “Uh, actually, I’m gonna ride with–”

“Not _you_ , Arrow Boy.”

“Uh…yeah,” Glimmer answered. “I’ll see you then.”

Catra lingered a moment longer. Then she slipped out the door, leaving the two of them alone.

Adora stared down the last bot – or, more accurately, the hologram it was projecting, in the crude shape of a princess. Judging by the cape, the hair, and the leotard, it was based on a specific one: Glimmer of Bright Moon, the princess who had been with Catra at Salineas.

Even now, she was probably poisoning Catra’s mind.

The hologram glowed red. Adora jumped to the right as a laser shot out, and then, with a cry of determination, stabbed forward with her staff. There was a crunch, and the bot went sliding; the hologram fizzled out, and smoke began to rise from the broken machine.

She looked around. There were dozens more bots, all in similar condition. It wasn’t the first batch she’d gone through today – the quartermaster wouldn’t be happy. But what else was she supposed to do? Now that Octavia was refusing to spar with her.

“Heeey! Adora!”

She spun around, to find Scorpia, wearing her usual, oblivious smile.

“That was some great fighting there. Real top-notch stuff!”

Adora rolled her eyes. They were just bots, and there was a _reason_ she went through so many of them.

“So, uh, anyway…we missed you at game night!”

“Oh,” Adora replied, holstering her staff and wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“Yep, sure did…ya know, we actually haven’t seen you all that much since that last mission.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Well…uh, about that. So, uh, we all think it’s really great that you take your training so seriously! But, haha, man, I’ve gotta ask…have you been in here the whole week?”

“What? No.”

She’d gone to all the meetings, obviously. And she’d guarded Shadow Weaver’s door for a few hours. Plus, she had to sleep every now and then.

“Hey, I know it’s kinda nerve-wracking those first couple weeks, but…you’re already a great Force Captain! Way better than I was when I got started!”

Surely a high bar.

“You don’t need to overwork yourself.”

Overwork? Did Scorpia know what was at stake?

Well, no. Of course not. Nobody else seemed to care that Catra was gone. Nobody else noticed how empty the halls were without her.

“Adora…are you okay?”

She looked up at Scorpia. The woman’s eyes were full of concern…open, honest concern. Adora stared, not used to seeing it.

She hesitated.

“It’s just…it’s Catra.”

Scorpia tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Cat-tra, Cat-tra…oh, that’s She-Ra, right?”

“No! I-I mean, well…yeah, but…she doesn’t know what she’s doing!”

Adora winced. She knew she wasn’t making sense.

“Catra’s not in control. And, I just…I need to help her.”

The other Force Captain cocked her head for a moment. Then her eyes widened. “Oh. Ohhhh. You guys were friends…?”

“We _are_ friends!” Adora insisted.

“Wow. You’re trying to bring her back…even after everything…wow. That’s…wow.”

She sniffled.

“You’re a great friend, Adora.”

Adora looked away.

“If there is _anything_ I can do to help,” Scorpia added, “anything at all, you just say the word.”

Adora sighed. “Thanks. But…right now, I don’t think there is. She’s in Bright Moon – it’s too well-defended.”

“What about tonight?”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?”

“Oh, uh – hang on.”

Adora turned, and found Scorpia struggling to pull something small and delicate out of her pocket. She got it out, and gave a triumphant grin – only to immediately lose her grip. She spent another five seconds failing to pick it up off the floor, before Adora finally came over and scooped it up.

It was a tightly-rolled scroll, with fancy golden trim. Adora offered it back to Scorpia, but she wouldn’t take it.

“Give it a read!” she insisted.

Adora opened it carefully. It was long…very long. She struggled to reach the top, and before she knew it, the parchment was piling up on the floor. But, finally, she found the first line.

“You are cordially invited to…Princess Prom?”

It took her a second to remember: Scorpia was, technically, a princess. It was just a bit of weird trivia, a footnote from Force Captain Orientation – but apparently, it still mattered to someone.

Scorpia beamed. “Catra – uh, well, I mean, She-Ra’s a princess. Right?”

“You think she’ll be there?”

“All the princesses go!” She paused. “Well, except me. I never really thought I’d fit in, ya know? With the big pincers, and the whole…‘Horde’ thing…”

Catra wouldn’t, either, if not for that horrible sword.

Something caught Adora’s attention – a little patch on the right side of the scroll, where the parchment felt too thick. She felt around it, and to her surprise, discovered a little pull-out section, with two words written on it: “No Weapons”.

They sent a chill down her spine.

Adora rolled the scroll up as quickly as she could. Then she handed it back to Scorpia, and looked her in the eye. “You still wanna help?”

Scorpia took a deep breath, and then exhaled. “Just say the word.”

Adora smiled. “Then we’re going to Princess Prom.”

Bright Moon had _hundreds_ of stupid, sparkly dresses. Catra didn’t bother trying any of them on. Instead, she pushed deeper and deeper into the vast closet, hunting for something with actual style. There were a handful of simple, plain dresses that…weren’t terrible. But they were still dresses.

She was on the verge of giving up, and settling for that plain red one, when she found it in the very back: an old tuxedo. It was bright blue, and a few sizes too big for her. But once you looked past that, it was actually pretty slick…and, of course, completely sparkle-free.

So she took it to the tailors. Oh, it wasn’t that she expected them to make a copy of it in just a few hours. It would take the best tailors in all of Etheria to pull that off! A shame, really. It would be quite an honor for She-Ra to show off their fine craftsmanship at her very first Princess Prom.

Four hours later, a tuxedo was delivered to her door – in her size and in red.

As she changed into it, she avoided looking at the mirror on her vanity. She didn’t want to see herself until she was fully dressed: pants, jacket, headpiece, even the bow tie.

Of course, she quickly discovered that she had no idea how to do up a bow tie; after a few failed attempts, she settled for draping it around her neck. Then, finally, she braced herself, and looked up at the mirror.

Hmm.

Quickly, she made a few adjustments. She rolled up her sleeves, and fished some fingerless gloves out of her dresser. She took off the pants, and pulled on her usual leggings beneath them – a little warm, but a lot better than having to wear shoes. As she spotted the holes in the knees, she had a sudden idea: before putting the tuxedo pants back on, she (very carefully) clawed out some matching holes.

This time, her reflection sent a shiver down her spine. _This_ was her look. Tough, stylish, fiery…

But her eyes lingered on her headpiece – on the three big scratches over the eye. Oh, they made her look tough, alright. Right up until you realized that they matched _her_ claws.

If she wore it…they’d all see.

Carefully, she removed it, and set it down on the vanity.

Without the headpiece, she could barely keep her hair out of her eyes. There wasn’t much time to fix that; she needed a quick, easy solution. So she searched the drawers until she found a tie, and then fumbled with her hair until she had it in the approximate shape of a ponytail. She looked up at the mirror again, holding her breath.

She let it out and smiled. Mission accomplished: her hair looked good.

Now, no more thinking about ponytails.

She grabbed her sword from her bed, and slung it onto her back – dance or not, she wasn’t leaving it behind. Then she took a second to gather her thoughts.

Recruit Frosta. Recruit Entrapta. And, hey, look good doing it.

Catra was ready.

She stepped out into the hall, and walked over to Glimmer’s door. She rapped her knuckles on it, then leaned back against the wall, toying with her sleeves. The material was so soft and cozy…she couldn’t help but purr.

It was a moment before she noticed: there had been no reply from Glimmer. What was the hold-up?

She knocked again. “Ready yet, Sparkles?”

Still no reply, but she could hear the princess shuffling around in there. Catra tapped her foot.

“Don’t think I won’t leave without–”

The door swung open. Glimmer stepped out in a sleeveless, lavender dress; it was frilly, but not quite as sparkly and garish as Catra had expected. Their eyes met, and Glimmer offered a weak smile.

“Hey,” she said. “You look nice.”

Catra beamed. “This thing’s cozy, too! Maybe I should dress up more often.”

Glimmer didn’t respond immediately. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

After a bit, she sighed. “We _always_ do this kind of thing together. Me and Bow. It’s so _weird_ , not having him here.”

Catra hesitated. Giving comfort wasn’t exactly her strong suit. But she had to try something, right?

“Uh, well, I don’t know if it helps, but…I know how you feel.”

“You mean…Adora?”

Catra didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry,” Glimmer said. “That must have been super hard, on top of everything else.”

“Look, forget about it. Right now, all that matters is that we are gonna have a great time at this prom – and Bow’s gonna be stuck with that annoying flower girl.” Catra offered a hand. “So come on, princess. You with me?”

Glimmer hesitated for a few more seconds. She took a deep breath. She forced a smile. Then, finally, she took Catra’s hand.

They walked together through the halls, down several flights of stairs, until they reached the door to the stables. Beyond, a royal-looking carriage was waiting for them, decked out in Bright Moon’s signature purples and golds, an armored guard holding the reins.

Something else was waiting for them, too: Queen Angella. She smiled warmly as they approached, eyes lingering on her daughter.

“Glimmer! You look wonderful.”

“Thanks Mom.”

“And you as well, Catra.”

She didn’t reply.

“Well,” the queen began, “I wish both of you an enjoyable evening. I would also, however, remind you that you are representing both Bright Moon and our cause. Be on your best behavior. And…Catra? Should anything… _stressful_ happen, I hope that you will call upon our lessons.”

“Yeah. Think about rocks. Got it.”

The queen pouted, and placed her hands on her hips. “I was _referring_ to the breathing exercises. Although I hope you understand that She-Ra’s connection to Etheria is much more than ‘thinking about rocks’.”

“Whatever. Look, you can relax – I’ll _behave_.”

Oh, not for the queen’s benefit, certainly. Catra would _behave_ so she could get on Frosta’s good side. And she didn’t need any stupid exercises to do that.

Angella sighed. “I will not make this a lecture. Enjoy yourselves, and don’t stay out too late.”

She gave her daughter a quick hug, and Catra a nod. Then, at last, she left.

“Okay, okay: how ‘bout this one?” Scorpia asked.

Adora turned. The other Force Captain was holding up a hot pink dress, covered from top to bottom in giant, sparkly frills. It made her want to throw up.

Scorpia burst out laughing. “I know, right? I can’t believe these old family dresses…who would actually wear this stuff?”

Adora smiled. Then she turned her attention back to the wardrobe – unfortunately, it all seemed to be garbage like that. She sorted through the last of the dresses, but found nothing even remotely acceptable.

“I give up,” she declared. “It’s all horrible princess-y stuff.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I found _one_ good dress.” She held it up for Adora to see – it was plain, black, and very slick. It looked almost Horde-like.

“Wow. That was in here?”

“Yeah, somehow! Looks like Mom had a little style after all.”

But unfortunately, not enough to go around. It looked like Adora would have to go in uniform. She might get some nasty looks, but it was better than subjecting herself to one of these things.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a slow, sharp knocking. She closed the wardrobe and headed to the door, tapping the button to open it – and revealing Shadow Weaver’s imposing figure.

She straightened her back and saluted. “Shadow Weaver!”

“Adora. Scorpia. Are you nearly ready to depart?”

Adora winced. “S-sorry, Shadow Weaver…it’s just…all these dresses are _horrible_. I mean, Scorpia found one that’s nice. But…”

“But you still have nothing to wear?”

“Just my uniform.”

Shadow Weaver paused. After a moment, she extended a hand. Dark clouds began to swirl around it, rushing downwards, nearly to the floor. Then they vanished, and in their place, they left a long, sleeveless, magenta dress. It was simple and elegant, with sharp lines and just a hint of gold trim around the middle.

It was perfect.

Adora hesitated; Shadow Weaver held it out further, and gave her a pointed look. Quickly, Adora stepped forward and grabbed it.

“This is…incredible, Shadow Weaver. Thank you!”

Shadow Weaver gazed at the dress for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then her eyes returned to Adora.

“You have your mission, Force Captain.”

She left without another word.

Catra leapt down from the carriage, and Glimmer teleported beside her. She looked up: ahead, a narrow peak loomed, with a shimmering, crystalline hall at its top. A long, winding path led upwards…seemingly made of ice. As they reached the start of it, Catra placed a foot down experimentally. It was lukewarm, and not slippery. Was it actually glass? Or was it _magic_ ice?

Well, either way, it was a long, boring, miserable walk. Or it would’ve been, if not for Glimmer.

They teleported right to the top, where the path opened up onto a wide plaza. At the far side was the entrance to the hall; a line had formed, leading past a little gatehouse. The two of them took their place in line – but as they waited, Catra noticed the girls ahead of them handing over bags, coats…weapons.

“Hey, they’re not gonna take my sword…right?”

Glimmer gave her a side-eyed glance. “Uh…did you really think you could bring that in?”

Catra groaned.

“It was in the rules,” Glimmer replied, smirking a little.

“Yeah, well, I skimmed.”

Great. So Catra either had to leave the most powerful weapon on Etheria in this stupid gatehouse…or she had to go wait in the carriage.

When it was their turn, she reluctantly took the sword off her back and handed it over. Of course, she also left the guard with some _very_ vivid warnings. By the time he took the weapon, he looked terrified – still, she gave him one final threatening glare as they left.

They walked onward, through a vaulted hallway, and then into the ballroom. As they stepped inside, Catra craned her neck – it was as big as the main hall at Bright Moon, decorated with jagged, icy columns and stylized snowflakes. Everything had the soft, reflective quality of sculpted ice. Was this whole place made of it…?

It was a moment before she looked down, and noticed the crowd. There had to be hundreds of people, busy chatting and eating and laughing. Even if half of them were plus-ones, the bar for being a princess was obviously lower than she’d thought.

At the far side of the room, there was a throne, set at the base of a wintery mural that reached all the way to the ceiling. In that throne (utterly dwarfed by it) was a child, wearing a heavy blue coat and a little tiara. She couldn’t be much older than twelve.

“That’s Frosta?” Catra asked as they walked. “I thought she was tough.”

“She is,” Glimmer insisted. “Her magic is crazy!”

Catra shot back a skeptical glance. But, whatever. She’d come too far to give up now.

The two of them walked up a set of stairs, to the raised platform where the throne was seated. There they stopped, and offered a formal, three-second bow. Bowing to a little kid…Catra rolled her eyes, but only when she was absolutely certain that no one could see.

“Revered Hostess,” Glimmer declared as they stood upright, “we come into your hall under the ancient rules of hospitality, bringing greetings from Bright Moon…and She-Ra, the legendary warrior.”

A few of the nearest partygoers gasped – apparently, they hadn’t heard about her. Catra smirked to herself. With any luck, they’d tell all their friends.

Frosta spoke up, her voice even, her words well-rehearsed. “You are welcome in the Kingdom of Snows under the ancient rules of hospitality. Leave conflict at the door. And please, enjoy the ball.”

With that, a pair of guards stepped forward and ushered them back down the stairs. As those guards turned back around, Catra glanced over her shoulder – there was already another couple being greeted. Her brow furrowed.

“So…Frosta’s stuck playing meet-and-greet.”

“Yep. She’s supposed to keep that up until the first dance – it’s in, like, half an hour. But after that, she’s free until the end ceremony.”

“Alright. Then in the meantime, let’s go find our other mark.” Catra paused. “You know what Entrapta looks like, right?”

“Um…kinda?”

“What do you mean, ‘kinda’?”

“I mean, she looks…all science-y! Engineer-y! Aprons and goggles and stuff!”

Catra smacked herself on the forehead. “Sparkles, everybody here is dressed up! She’s not gonna be in her…”

She trailed off. There, in the distance, was a figure climbing up one the columns – a woman with long purple hair, wearing overalls and an oil-stained undershirt. And, sure enough, a pair of goggles, under a flipped-up welding mask.

“Never mind…found her.”

Catra led Glimmer through the crowd, over to the pillar. When they got there, she put her hands on her hips and called upwards: “Entrapta?”

“Oh, hello!” the woman shouted back. “Do I know you?”

“Well, you know _of_ me: I’m She-Ra.”

The woman stared blankly.

Catra cocked her head. “Uh…legendary hero? Giant lady? Magic sword?”

At that, the woman slid down the pillar, and spun around to face them. “Ooooh, you have a magic sword?! Can I see?!”

“Uh…well, you know, I don’t have it _with_ me…” Catra kicked herself. Great start. “Uh, but, but hey, Sparkles here can teleport! That’s pretty cool, right?”

In an instant, Entrapta was in Glimmer’s face, whipping out a recording device…with…her hair?

“How does it work?” she demanded. “What’s the power source? What are the limitations? What happens when you teleport into solid matter?”

Glimmer took a nervous step back. “Uh…heh heh…”

Catra, on the other hand, smirked. She could work this angle.

“You know,” she said, tapping a finger to her chin, “we actually have a whole bunch of princesses in our alliance. They’ve got all kinds of crazy powers! Perfuma can control plants…Angella has these force fields…Netossa…uh…”

“Makes nets?” Glimmer suggested.

Entrapta shrieked. “Spontaneous generation of matter…?! Ohhhh, the things I could _learn_ …”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll bet!” Catra replied. “Thing is, you know, they’re all pretty busy with Princess Alliance stuff…I don’t think they could spare time for someone who’s not a member.”

“Awww, that’s no fun…”

“Well…I guess, maybe, just this once…I could get you in. If you want.”

“Ohhhh, would you do that for me?!”

“Depends. You ready to help us fight the Horde?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” She paused. “Who are they?”

“The Evil Horde?” Glimmer replied. “From the Fright Zone? They’ve been trying to take over Etheria for, like, decades…?”

“Oh. That sounds bad.”

“Yeah,” Catra replied, glancing at her claws. “You could say that. So…you in?”

“Yes! Definitely! How do I join your group?”

Catra grinned. “You just did.”

Entrapta let out a cry of excitement. She lifted the recording device up – again, using her hair – and tapped the button on it. “Log entry, day one: social experiment number three has been extended indefinitely! And it’s all thanks to my new assistants, She-Ra and Sparkles!”

Glimmer forced a smile. “Uh, ac-actually, my name is…uh…”

It was too late. Entrapta was lost in her recordings, and halfway up the pillar again.

Glimmer sighed. “Okay, that’s fine.”

Catra took her by the hand and led her back into the crowd, out of Entrapta’s earshot (just in case). “Hey, cheer up, Sparkles – that one was nice and easy. We didn’t even have to save her kingdom.”

“Alright, fine – that was pretty good. You really sold her.”

She smirked. “Stick with me, princess. Now come on – I think I saw a snack bar.”

Catra prowled the tables, plucking out whatever looked appealing – little cakes, and something called ‘sushi’. Whatever it was, it was fantastic. Sushi…she’d have to get the Bright Moon cooks on board with that.

Still, she didn’t lose sight of her mission. She watched Frosta out of the corner of her eye, noting her expressions, eavesdropping on her muttered complaints whenever an excited teenager screwed up the greeting. She obviously took her responsibilities here very seriously. But she was still a little kid…and, honestly, she looked bored out of her mind. Maybe that was Catra’s angle?

“Hey, Sparkles, what’s your take on our ‘Revered Hostess’?”

No reply. She glanced around; her wingmate was gone. She groaned, popped one last roll into her mouth, and began searching.

Glimmer hadn’t gotten too far. She had her back to Catra, and she was hiding behind a group of annoyed women, peeking out at the throne.

“Hey,” Catra said, putting a hand on her shoulder, and making her jump. “Points for effort, but we gotta work on your subtlety.”

But then she followed the princess’s eyes. She wasn’t looking at Frosta – she was looking at the couple greeting her, dressed in pink outfits, wearing happy smiles. Bow and Perfuma.

Catra’s eyes narrowed.

“They’re matching,” Glimmer muttered. “That’s _our_ thing…”

Catra watched as the two of them headed down the stairs. Bow scanned the crowd for a moment, until he spotted her; he waved, and then led Perfuma over.

As the two of them neared, Glimmer jumped out from her hiding spot, and reached up to rest her elbow on Catra’s shoulder. Not the most natural pose…or the most natural smile.

“O-oh! Hey Bow! Hey Perfuma! Didn’t, uh…didn’t see you there!”

“Hey guys!” Bow replied. “Having fun?”

“Oh, yeah, totally! Yep! Just me and Catra! Having fun!”

“Well…Perfuma and I are gonna go say hi to some of her friends. You wanna come?”

Glimmer turned a little pale.

Before she could embarrass herself, Catra stepped in. “Hey, I don’t know if you remember, but we have a _mission_ here. Entrapta? Frosta? Ring any bells?”

“I know we’re trying to recruit them,” Bow said, “but there’s plenty of time to enjoy ourselves, too! And I think you guys would really like–”

“Yeah, uh-huh, very interesting,” Catra interrupted. “Listen: we’re gonna work on Frosta next, but I can see _you’re_ very busy. You know, ‘having fun’ with your new girlfriend.”

Bow didn’t reply to that.

Perfuma laughed nervously. “Y-you know, actually, Bow and I are just–”

“Don’t care. Later.” Catra took Glimmer by the arm and led her back into the crowd.

Once they had some distance, Glimmer let out a groan. “Ugggh, this ball _sucks_!”

Catra glanced over her shoulder, glaring at the couple in pink, who were chatting anxiously to one another. “I don’t think the _ball_ is the problem.”

They could both use a little space right now. Catra slipped through to the edge of the room, but the crowd wasn’t much thinner there. But then she noticed the stairs by the front door. They led up to a pair of balconies, overlooking the room from each side. And those balconies were nearly empty.

“Hey, come on.”

She darted up the stairs, trusting Glimmer to follow. She walked past a handful of giggling couples, and then took a spot on the railing, leaning onto it. Oh yeah…this was much nicer. She already felt a little better.

But when she glanced over, she found Glimmer slumped onto the railing, a sullen look on her face.

Once again, Catra didn’t know what to say. Bow would know. He’d make some sappy comment, and cheer her right up.

But tonight, Bow wasn’t the solution. He was the problem.

Glimmer spoke up. “I know he thinks I’m being dramatic. But…I just…”

A moment passed.

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“So, what?” Catra asked. “You’re just gonna keep pretending everything’s fine?”

She winced. Her voice had been a little too sharp.

“Look, I don’t…ugh, I’m on your side, okay?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“ _You’re_ his best friend, right? Not her. You have to make him respect that.”

“But…but if I push him…”

A tear ran down her cheek.

“What if he doesn’t pick me?”

Catra’s ears drooped, and her tail sank to the ground. She wished, _desperately_ , that she had a good answer for Glimmer.

But she didn’t.

Without warning, the princess threw her arms around Catra, sobbing. Catra jumped a little, but…she didn’t push the girl away. She stayed frozen for a few seconds. But then, hesitantly, she returned the hug.

They stayed like that for a little while.

Eventually, Glimmer’s tears stopped coming, and her sniffling grew quieter. Her grip on Catra’s back loosened, and the two of them separated.

“Thanks, Catra,” Glimmer said quietly, rubbing her eyes.

Catra turned away and crossed her arms. “Don’t you _dare_ tell anyone.”

The princess giggled. “I don’t think they’d believe me!”

That earned her a quick little smirk. But that was it – that was Catra’s fill of sappy emotional stuff. She turned back to the railing, her eyes lingering on the throne. She had a nice, unobstructed view from here. Might not be a bad place to continue her little stakeout.

“Hey…I’m gonna get some punch,” Glimmer said. “You want any?”

Catra shook her head.

“Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”

As the princess left, she resumed studying Frosta. Couple after couple marched in, exchanged their formal greetings with her, and left; over and over, the routine never changed, and neither did Frosta’s reserved, formal body language. Honestly, for a kid her age, she had a lot of patience.

More patience than Catra. After a few minutes of watching the cycle, she found herself gazing out at the crowd, her eyes wandering across all the various princesses and their guests. There really were all kinds of people down there. Some in pink dresses, others in smart suits and tuxedos. Some light-skinned, some dark-skinned, some with long ears and tails. There was even a towering woman with huge pincers for forearms.

Huh. Somehow, that one was familiar.

Had she been to Bright Moon at some point? Catra wasn’t sure. Well, maybe her partner would ring a bell? This woman was shorter, and quite slender. She wore a simple (but cute) magenta dress, and her blonde hair was tied in a–

No.

It couldn’t be.

Catra stared, wide-eyed, as the two of them marched up to the throne and offered their bows; the blonde’s was stiff and over-practiced, as if it were a military maneuver.

It was Adora.

Why was Adora here?!

And why was the ‘Revered Hostess’ letting her stay?!

Of course. The big bug-lady was a princess, and Adora was her plus-one. Catra wasn’t sure how a Force Captain had found a princess to tag along with…but the _how_ didn’t matter. She was apparently here to stay.

Was she after the sword?

No, that just didn’t make any sense – she had to know that the sword was in the gatehouse outside. So why bother coming in here, and announcing her presence?

She had to be after something else.

Maybe she’d guessed that the Princess Alliance would try to recruit here. Maybe she wanted to drive a wedge between Frosta and Bright Moon – or, worse, maybe she was looking to draw Frosta into a closer relationship with the Horde. It didn’t even have to be Frosta. There were so many political games that the Horde could play here!

But, as her racing heart began to slow, and her breathing steadied, she realized something. If the Horde wanted to play politics…they should _not_ have sent Adora.

From the looks of it, she’d already done something to offend Frosta. The ice princess raised her hand, and a pair of guards dragged Adora none-too-gently down the steps, all but throwing her to the ground. Her big scorpion friend rushed over to help her up, but even from here, Catra could see the frustration on Adora’s face.

Interesting.

In a fight, Adora was pretty tough. In a military operation, she was precise and relentless.

But at a ball, she was vulnerable.

She could be hurt.

Catra slipped between partygoers with ease, closing in on Adora. The hapless Force Captain was alone – Bug-Lady must have ditched her – and busy trying to shove her way through the crowd, apologizing desperately to each new person she smacked into.

“Catra!” she yelled, earning a few glares. “Catra?”

Catra snuck up from behind, crossed her arms, and waited just a moment for effect.

“Hey Adora.”

The girl spun around, eyes wide – first with shock, then relief. “Catra! Oh, whew.”

“How’s the ball treating you?” Catra asked, eyeing her claws. “ _I’ve_ been having a great time – you know, with my friends.”

She counted them out on her fingers, savoring Adora’s little wince.

“Bow, Glimmer, Perfuma, Entrapta…and, hey, I’ll bet I can win over Frosta, too! You know, since you’ve got her mad at the Horde.”

“Catra, this isn’t a game! These are dangerous princesses – they’re not your friends!”

She laughed hysterically. “Oh, yeah, that’s good! Because _you’d_ know all about who my real friends are, huh?”

“I–”

“Last I checked, _they_ haven’t shot me in the back. _They_ haven’t tried to take She-Ra away. But you know what they _have_ done? _They_ stood up to Shadow Weaver _._ ”

“Shadow Weaver…? Catra, she was only trying to reach out!”

It was the millionth time she’d heard that kind of denial – but somehow, it still cut deep.

“Oh, yeah! I _really appreciate it_ when her stupid illusions tell me that everyone–”

Catra cut herself short. No, she refused to be _weak_ in front of Adora. And besides…she was losing her momentum. She wasn’t here to change Adora’s mind. She was here to make Adora _hurt_.

“Look. The point is: Shadow Weaver doesn’t get to control me anymore! I guess she’ll have to settle for you. But hey, you don’t mind, right? I mean, this is everything you ever wanted.”

“Catra, this is _not_ what I wanted!”

“Oh, you don’t have to lie anymore! I know that all you ever cared about was getting that badge. Well…that, and making your puppet master proud. I was really just getting in your way, huh?”

“It’s not like that! It was never like that!”

“Oh, you’re right – my bad! Everything was great. Everything was just perfect! But, huh. Doesn’t that make you wonder?”

Catra leaned in close.

“If everything was great…why would I leave?”

Adora stared, wide-eyed. She tried to stammer something, but…she couldn’t seem to find the words.

Catra smirked.

“Well, it’s been nice catching up, but I’ve gotta check in with my _real_ friends. Back in a bit!”

“No – Catra – wait!”

Adora reached for her arm, but she was too quick. In a moment, she was back among the sea of people, grinning to herself.

This time, she’d landed a hit…and she was just getting started.

She found Glimmer by the drinks table, as promised. But the princess wasn’t alone; she was deep in conversation with Bow.

“I’m allowed to have other friends!” Bow declared.

“But…but what if we stop hanging out together?”

“We won’t! I wanted to hang out with you guys all night! The only person who _doesn’t_ wanna hang out is…”

He trailed off.

Catra clenched her fist. “I have a name,” she declared, stepping closer.

“O-oh!” Bow said, turning and rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Catra. Didn’t…see you there.”

“Well, now you’d better apologize to _both_ of us.”

“Look, I don’t need to apologize for going with Perfuma! You’re being _really_ weird about this! And…well…it’s kinda hurting her feelings.”

“ _Her_ feelings?”

“I mean, she thinks you two are great…she thought we’d all hang out, and it would be really fun.” He sighed. “I did, too.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought for a second before you _ditched us!_ ” Catra shouted.

Both of them stared at her. They weren’t the only ones. How many heads were turning…?

“Catra.” It was Glimmer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m _fine_. I’m great! I’m having the time of my life.”

“Maybe…maybe we should just go home,” Bow suggested. “All four of us. We could…play a game!”

“Fine! Go. I don’t need you.”

“Catra,” the princess repeated. “Whatever it is…you can tell me. We can…we can go someplace, if you want.”

“No, I get it. Stay here! Hang out with _him_ , and…oh, that’s right! Your _replacement_.”

Glimmer gasped, but Catra was well past caring. She whirled around and stormed off, just as the lights dimmed, and Frosta’s voice echoed through the room.

“It is my solemn duty as hostess to now announce…it is time for the first dance of the ball.”

A cheer went up. Catra grinned.

No fun without a partner, right?

She scanned the room: there she was, being shoved forward by a throng of eager princesses. Catra slunk over, slipping between them, and positioned herself as Adora’s partner.

As the music began to play, she raised her hand.

Adora hesitated. But, cautiously, she placed her hand against Catra’s, and they began to circle one another.

“Catra, please. I just…want…to talk.”

“Funny. That’s what I wanted, back at Thaymor.”

“I’m sorry! I know I let you down!”

A new partner reached for Adora’s hand – but Catra didn’t let it go. They were finishing this dance _together_.

“Honestly, Adora, I’m used to it. You’ve been letting me down all my life.”

“Catra, please…I don’t…I don’t wanna fight anymore…”

“I’ll bet you still blame that sword. You still think it’s controlling me.”

“I…I don’t know…!”

It was time for the lift, but Adora missed her mark. She was too distraught.

_Good._

“Well, here’s the thing: I don’t see the sword anywhere. Do you?”

A tear streamed down Adora’s cheek.

It was almost time for the big one. Catra counted down in her head. Six…five… She spun around backwards, into the other girl’s arms.

“Face it, Adora. The sword didn’t make me leave.”

It was time.

She grabbed Adora tight, and dipped her low, almost horizontal, leaning in close; she met Adora’s frightened eyes, and smiled viciously.

“ _You_ did.”

She stood upright, and tried to bring Adora with her – but the blonde yanked her arm away, stumbling backwards onto the floor, staring, eyes wide and teary.

The music kept playing, the dancers kept twirling…but for the two of them, time stood still.

Until finally, Adora stumbled to her feet, and began to run. Catra watched her shove past happy princesses and their smiling partners, ignoring their complaints, desperately forcing her way through to the door.

She’d done it.

She’d hurt Adora.

She stared at the fleeing figure. The spinning dancers, the slow music…they all faded away. They didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Why did she feel like this…? This was what she’d wanted.

Wasn’t it?

She hesitated.

Then, slowly, she began to follow.

By the time she made it outside, Adora was sitting at the edge of the plaza, resting her head on her knees. Catra approached cautiously and quietly. When she got close, she decided to take a seat further along the edge…just out of arm’s reach.

She looked out at the view. Distant peaks rose from a sheet of mist, under a sky that turned from pink at the horizon to deep blue above, full of shimmering moons.

She knew what Adora was thinking about: that platform, back in the Fright Zone. Back when they’d been best friends, and they’d promised to look out for each other.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

Catra could say something nice. She could try and mend things…or at least atone a little for what she’d done. But would that change anything? It wouldn’t put out the fire that she felt every time she remembered Thaymor. And it wouldn’t make Adora stop trying to drag her back to Shadow Weaver.

Catra could twist the knife, instead. She could say all those things she had thought for years, but never said aloud. She could lay down one last piercing accusation, and then walk away forever. But…well…she’d already tried that, hadn’t she? And it hadn’t worked. Oh, sure, it had crushed Adora. But it hadn’t made Catra feel any better. If it had, well…she wouldn’t be out here.

So. What did that leave?

Silence, perhaps. One last, quiet moment, shared between them. Maybe they could spend it remembering the good times.

That sounded nice.

But there was something else. Something eating away at her. A burning question, the one she had asked herself over and over since that day.

“Why did you pick her?”

“What?”

“Shadow Weaver. Why did you pick her…over me?”

“Catra…you know that’s not–”

“No,” she interrupted. “I _don’t_ know. And I’d really like to.”

Adora sighed. “I _thought_ I was picking _you_. I thought I could take you back to the Fright Zone, and then…and then everything would be normal again. That’s all I want, Catra. I just…I want things the way they were. No princesses. No She-Ra. Just…us.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Don’t you want that, too?”

Did she?

She wasn’t sure.

Well, it didn’t matter – in reality, it _wouldn’t_ be just them. Going back meant facing Lonnie, and Hordak, and most of all, Shadow Weaver. It meant living every night in fear of what might come in the morning.

And Glimmer would never forgive her.

Catra’s ears sank low, and she pulled her knees in tighter. She had tried to hurt Glimmer, too, hadn’t she? After all that bonding…after all those times Glimmer had bailed her out…Catra had still lashed out at her without so much as a second thought.

Why?

Why was she like this?

There was a humming sound coming from below the edge of the plaza. She watched, confused, as Adora rose to her feet.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Then she jumped over the edge. Catra froze, wide-eyed – but Adora wasn’t falling. She was rising…carried up by the roof of a black, scorpion-shaped hover vehicle. Bug-Lady’s ride, presumably.

Adora opened a hatch, and ducked inside. The vehicle backed away from the plaza, until it was hovering maybe forty feet away. Then, to Catra’s surprise, she reemerged with something in hand. She held it out for Catra to see: a wide sword, with a golden hilt and a blue-white blade.

_Her_ sword.

In a rush of instinct and panic and adrenaline, she almost leaped – but she stopped herself right at the edge, teetering over it precariously. She couldn’t make that jump. She knew that.

So did Adora.

She had been tricked again.

This whole time, Adora had just been the distraction…while _Bug-Lady_ stole her sword. For all those venomous things she had said, for all the pain she had caused…Adora had still come out on top.

“Catra,” she called out. “It’s time to come home.”

Then she ducked back into the vehicle, and with a roar of its engine, it flew away.


	9. The Black Garnet

“Catra? Catra!”

Glimmer’s voice, from somewhere behind.

It took Catra a moment to remember where she was. Princess Prom – the plaza outside. Standing at the edge of a thousand-foot drop. She stared down, into the soupy fog below.

There was a twinkling sound, and the princess appeared next to her. “Oh, whew. We’ve been looking everywhere. Are you okay?”

We? She turned. Bow and Perfuma were hurrying after Glimmer, while Entrapta followed them at a distance, still shouting into her recorder.

Catra turned back to the horizon, to the pink clouds that Adora had disappeared into.

She gritted her teeth.

“ _Adora_ was here.”

“Adora? From the Horde? Why?!”

“Why do you think?!” Catra snapped.

“Catra…I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was…I didn’t think the Horde could…”

“She took it.”

Glimmer paused. Her eyes widened. “You mean…the sword?”

Silence.

“Oh…oh, that’s…that’s bad,” the princess said quietly.

Footsteps drew closer, and then came to a halt. “Catra! Are you okay?” Bow asked.

She jumped to her feet, whirled around, and grabbed Bow by his stupid pink jacket. “ADORA TOOK THE SWORD!” she screamed in his face. She waited for his jaw to drop. Then she shoved him away, and turned to glare at the others.

“We, um, we have to tell Mom,” Glimmer said. “Maybe we can…steal it back!”

“Oh, and you think the _queen_ is gonna help with that? You think she’ll sign off on a mission to the Fright Zone?” Catra scoffed. “She’s gonna tell you to wait around the castle and just _hope_ things work out.”

And that wasn’t all. Without She-Ra, the queen would have no reason to keep Catra around. She’d be thrown away again. Abandoned. Alone.

Her breathing was getting faster.

“Okay,” Bow stammered, “okay, okay. Look. We all know the sword is important. But going to the Fright Zone…sounds like a _really_ bad idea.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Catra replied. “We need She-Ra.”

_I need She-Ra._

“She-Ra’s great,” Bow answered carefully, “but…you don’t _need_ her. You’re tough, and smart, and…we’re friends with _you_. Not She-Ra.”

Catra studied him closely, searching for any sign of deception. There was none, and he wasn’t much of a liar. He probably believed what he was saying.

But he was wrong.

Everything good in her life came from She-Ra. Her power, her respect…her safety. Without She-Ra, she was just a runaway cadet, with no friends and no future, counting the days until Shadow Weaver found her.

Without She-Ra, she was worthless.

Bow couldn’t understand that. He’d just give her some empty platitudes about friendship. He would never see her despair as anything more than a problem to be fixed. He would never _get it_.

But there was something else she could tell him.

Catra looked between them. Bow’s idiotic little half-smile. Perfuma’s look of worry. Entrapta’s confusion. Glimmer’s shock. They would all hear. They would all know the truth about her. The thought made her whole body go taut…but she was sure that it was the only way to get them all on her side.

So she took a deep breath.

“Adora…can use the sword.”

They were all quiet.

“When I first picked it up,” Catra continued, “I got a vision. There was a woman – she was expecting someone. But, it…it wasn’t me.”

Bow spoke up, almost whispering. “And…you think it was–”

“She said the name. _‘Adora’_.”

Another moment of quiet.

“Uh…w-well,” Bow said, his voice cracking, “that doesn’t mean it would _still_ work for her! The sword probably just…changed its mind!”

“Yeah? And what if that happens again, genius?”

“Horde She-Ra,” Glimmer muttered. “We’d be…we wouldn’t…”

“She doesn’t know yet,” Catra added – at least, she hoped not. “So if we’re _quick_ , we might be able to get She-Ra back. But, hey. If you’d rather waltz back to Bright Moon, have a nice day-long meeting with the queen, and see how long it takes She-Ra to come beat us down…be my _guest_.”

Silence.

It was broken by Perfuma. “We have to go.”

Catra, surprised, looked over to the flower girl. She had stepped forward, with a nervous frown but fire in her eyes. After everything Catra had said at the dance, she wasn’t sure that…but, no, apparently not. Perfuma was still with her. Her tail swished a little.

“Okay,” Glimmer said. “I’m in.”

“Entrapta?” Catra asked.

She poked her head up from behind Perfuma. “Right, so, this is a dangerous mission to steal back a magic sword. Is that correct?”

Catra winced. “It’s not _just_ a magic–”

“Count me in!”

“Oh. Uh, great. Thanks. So…Arrow Boy?”

Bow grimaced. “This still seems reeeally dangerous.”

“Wow, brilliant observation. Are you _in_ or _out_?”

He groaned. “If you’re really doing this…you’ll need the whole Best Friends Squad.”

Catra rolled her eyes. But she breathed a sigh of relief, too.

She’d have Perfuma as her muscle. Glimmer to slip past doors. Entrapta to subvert the security systems. And Bow to quietly take out guards.

With all of that, she could pull this off.

It wouldn’t be easy. One mistake would spell disaster. And, of course, it was a trap – Adora had made that very clear.

But she was too methodical. She would expect them to be cautious, to spend days planning out their heist, and to waste time scouring every armory or vault where the sword might be kept.

They didn’t need to. The sword was a powerful, magical artifact…Shadow Weaver would never let it out of her sight.

It would be in the Black Garnet chamber.

Catra shivered.

“It’s a long ride,” Bow pointed out. “We’d better get going.”

“Yeah,” Catra agreed. Then she pushed her way past them, and set off towards the winding path leading down the mountain.

As she walked, she patted down her hair, and smoothed out her tail. She had to keep up the façade. She couldn’t let them see.

_Winners_ weren’t afraid.

Catra loved it when the adults went out on a mission. It meant they got the whole Fright Zone to themselves! No one to call her names…no one to yell at her for playing tag in the halls, or swinging around on cables.

It was just her and Adora.

“Catra! Wait up!”

She looked back, and found her best friend hanging awkwardly from a cable, trying to get enough speed to jump off. Catra grinned.

“What’s it like being the world’s slowest person?”

At last, Adora swung forward and let go. Catra jumped aside as the other kid went tumbling into a pile of boxes, graceful as ever.

A second later, she popped up, hand outstretched. But she was still too slow. Catra turned and ran, laughing as Adora followed. She ducked around pipes and machinery, slipping out of her friend’s reach–

But she was frozen by the sight of a tall, narrow doorway, and the glowing red stone on the other side.

Adora grabbed her arm, and a bit of her hair. Then, a moment later, she noticed it as well.

“Whoa.”

They were used to passing by this weird, tall door – but it was always closed.

Until now.

“It’s open…” Catra muttered.

“We’re _definitely_ not allowed in there.”

She glanced over. Adora glanced back. They both smiled.

The blonde girl led the way, giggling.

The stone was much taller than an adult, and the room around it was taller still. It was circular and dark, with the only light coming from the stone itself. Aside from it (and a little cauldron mounted on a stand), the room was empty. Why was there a whole room just for this rock…?

“Whoa,” Adora whispered.

Catra stepped closer, and began circling the stone. It was jagged and weird, unlike anything else in the Fright Zone. She reached out to touch it – but when she did, there was a crackling sound, a bright red spark, and a painful jolt. Catra yelped and drew back her finger. It still stung a little. She sucked on it.

“May-maybe we should get outta here,” Adora suggested nervously.

But then, Catra heard a distant rasping, one that made her hair stand on end. She looked at the door. It was coming from out there, and it was getting louder, fast.

Quickly, quietly, they ducked behind the stone. They were just in time – someone was entering the room. The pained sounds continued, growing closer and closer. Catra’s eyes widened as she recognized the voice behind them.

She ducked further out of sight.

A moment passed. Then there was a tapping sound, and an electric crackle. Shadow Weaver must have touched the stone. Why? Didn’t it hurt? Apparently not – the next sound was a sigh of relief.

The seconds ticked by. Another sigh. Then a click, and a dull thud. What was going on over there…? Catra had to know. She held her breath, and popped her head around the edge of the stone.

Shadow Weaver was leaning over the cauldron. She had taken off her mask and set in on the edge, but she was turned away, long black hair keeping her features out of sight.

Catra heard a soft cry of fear from beside her. Her ears shot up. She turned to Adora, who had covered her mouth a moment too late. Then she glanced back at Shadow Weaver – and found a pair of blood-shot, sickly yellow eyes peeking out from between her fingers.

The sorceress gasped.

They had to go. Now. Catra grabbed Adora and shoved her towards the door, following as fast she could.

“GET OUT!” Shadow Weaver screamed from behind. Maybe, just maybe, she would actually let them go…?

But Catra’s legs were getting harder to move. It felt like someone was grabbing them, slowing her down, making her fall behind. She heard the same crackling that had come from the stone, and saw flickers of red at the edges of her vision. Then, suddenly, in the middle of a step, her entire body locked up.

She was frozen. Helpless.

Shadows swirled around the door, blocking Adora’s escape. And as she came to a halt, the voice came from behind again, its burning rage replaced by a cool, icy hatred.

“Catra. You stay.”

The invisible hands moved her limbs, shoving her feet down and her arms against her sides. More sparks flickered across her face. She could hardly breathe.

“What do you think you’re doing here…?”

Her body spun in place, until she was staring up at Shadow Weaver. With one hand, the woman reached forward, beckoning – no, _pulling_ Catra closer. With the other, she secured her mask. Now her eyes were white. Featureless. Cold.

Catra tried to scream, but heard nothing.

“Catra?”

She bolted upright, claws bared, hissing – but it was only Bow.

The Black Garnet chamber was gone. Instead, she was back in the royal carriage, the one that had brought them to the dance. Perfuma and Entrapta sat on the far side, whispering to one another (or as near to whispering as Entrapta could manage). Glimmer was slumped onto one of the benches, snoring. And Bow was sitting on the other one, leaning over Catra.

“Sorry,” he offered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What? You didn’t…ugggh, whatever.”

She breathed in and out a few times, forcing herself to relax. It was an uphill battle.

Eventually, she sat up, shooting Bow a quick glare before turning around, and gazing out the window. The sky was dark, with the moons all hidden behind a layer of deep red clouds. Behind them was a vast desert, broken up by columns of rock; ahead loomed the jagged wall of a crater, with an orange glow coming from the other side.

The edge of the Fright Zone.

“Hey,” Bow added, “I’m sorry about the dance, too.”

He ought to be. Running off with Perfuma? Abandoning his _real_ friends? Just thinking about it made her tense up again.

“Princess Prom is supposed to be really fun,” he continued. “Glimmer and I…we thought you’d get to unwind. We had no idea the Horde could get in. If we knew…”

He sighed.

“I just wish they’d leave you alone.”

“Yeah. Well. That makes two of us.”

They were quiet for a bit. The only sound was the soft rumble of hooves, and the carriage’s wheels.

“Uh, listen,” he finally said. “I know you have a lot on your mind. So, if you ever need to talk to someone…”

“Save it.”

She didn’t need his opinions on her messed-up childhood. She had survived, and gotten out. That was all that mattered.

But there was a hint of doubt in the back of her mind.

_Had_ she gotten out?

Since leaving the Horde, she had often daydreamed about returning to the Fright Zone – as She-Ra, standing tall and proud over her humiliated foes. Instead, here she was, sneaking in under the cover of night. No sword. No vanquished enemies. Still haunted by Shadow Weaver.

It had been _two weeks_ , and already, they had found a way to drag her back. Even if this plan worked – even if she got the sword back – her tormentors would never stop, would they? They would lurk behind every corner. They would take every opportunity to trick her, capture her, hurt her.

She would never, ever be safe.

Could Bow see her trembling…?

“That, uh…that’s a nice tux,” he offered.

“What?” She looked over at him.

“It’s cool,” he said, smiling weakly. “Did you find it in the closet?”

“Uh…no? Sorta? I had the tailors make it. Why?”

Bow shrugged. “I just like it.”

He obviously had more to say, but he hesitated.

“What?” Catra asked. “Just spit it out.”

“Well, uh, when I get really anxious…I try to think about something totally different. At least until I feel better.”

She groaned. She didn’t need his ‘help’. She crossed her arms and turned her gaze back to the desert.

But she wasn’t trembling anymore.

As soon as they spotted the first buildings, they abandoned the carriage. They made it the rest of the way on foot, slipping between shadows, evading patrols. It wasn’t the tightest security out here – after all, what did Hordak care about these old warehouses and scrapyards?

The real security began at the inner compound. Catra peeked around the corner, at a sealed doorway along the left wall, guarded by a pair of armored troopers – it wasn’t the first entrance they’d found, but it was the first one where the spotlights and guard towers didn’t have line of sight.

She turned back to her crew. Glimmer looked determined. Bow looked nervous. But Entrapta was off gawking at a pipe, with Perfuma busy trying to drag her back towards the rest of them.

Catra rubbed her temples. Then she marched over to her distracted subordinate, grabbed her by the shoulder, and spun her forcefully around.

“Hey, dork princess. You wanna get killed?”

“Killed? No, that would be very inconveni–”

“Then _pay attention_ – if you mess something up here, we’re all dead. You got that?”

Entrapta turned a little pale. “Oh. Um…yes. I understand.” She flipped her welding mask down over her face. “I’ll try not to…mess things up.”

“Yeah, you _try_.”

Bow cleared his throat. “I’m sure Entrapta didn’t mean–”

“Shut up, don’t care. So: there’s two guards up there. Arrow Boy, you’ve got the closer one – the one on the left. Sparkles, get me behind his buddy.”

Glimmer nodded. Bow tried to say something more, but Catra shoved a hand over his mouth. She leaned in close to him, and spoke very slowly.

“Can you shoot…the bad guy…on the left?”

A moment passed. He nodded.

She pulled her hand away. “Then we go on three.”

Perfuma gulped. “Ah, hehe…should I be doing any–”

“One.” Catra grabbed Glimmer’s hand.

“Catra,” Bow said, “can we just talk for a–”

“ _Two._ ”

He winced, and quickly drew his weapon, notching an arrow.

“Three.”

Everything went pink, and Catra’s stomach churned as she reappeared directly behind one of the soldiers. He started to turn, but he was too slow – in an instant, she had him in a chokehold. A moment later, there was a whistling sound, a cry of surprise, and a _thud_. The other guard was down.

The one she’d grabbed reached down for his weapon, but he stopped when a claw pressed into his throat.

“Don’t even think about,” she warned.

Slowly, he raised his arms. Much better.

“I want the passcode for that door,” she said as Bow, Perfuma and Entrapta hurried over.

“I…I can’t.”

“Aww, too afraid of your little Force Captain?”

He didn’t reply.

Catra chuckled. “Well, see, here’s the thing: we caught your partner, too.”

She squeezed her fingers, until her claws cut through his undersuit, and dug into his skin.

“And I only need _one_ of you.”

He gulped. “W-wait, I…”

“That doesn’t sound like a code.” She pressed harder.

“It…it’s ‘90184’!”

With a smirk, Catra relaxed her claws. She turned to the others.

“I want these idiots out of their armor and tied up.”

“Catra,” Bow said quietly, looking aghast. “You can’t–”

“I just did.”

“But…that’s not how we do things!”

She threw her captured trooper to the ground, and stepped over him, towards Bow, nostrils flared. “If they wanted me to play nice, then _Adora_ shouldn’t have taken my _sword_.”

Catra probably should’ve stopped there. But the _disappointment_ in Bow’s eyes…it made her jaw clench.

“And if _you_ wanted me to play nice, then maybe you shouldn’t have dragged me off to some stupid dance – then _none_ of this would’ve happened! But no, you just _had_ to go on your little date, huh? Who cares if there’s a war going on?”

“Catra…you _know_ that isn’t true. You wanted to go; you said we could recruit–”

“ _You_ don’t get to tell me what _I_ wanted!”

He went quiet.

She patted down her hair, and smoothed out her tail. Then she looked at the princesses, all watching her. She glared back.

“Armor. _Now_.”

Silently, they went to work.

Catra put on the helmet, grimacing as it pressed her ears flat against her head. It wasn’t quite painful, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable.

That didn’t matter, right? She was tough. She could put up with this.

She turned to examine Bow – tall and broad-shouldered, he might’ve made a convincing Horde soldier, if he wasn’t waving his arms around like a lunatic. With a quick eye roll, she stepped over, and tapped a button on the side of his helmet.

“–you guys hear me?”

She grabbed his arms and forced them down. “Shut up. You three – ready to go?”

The princesses, gathered beside the door, nodded. Well, except for Entrapta. Catra had to snap her fingers a few times to get her attention.

“Focus,” she ordered.

Entrapta cleared her throat. “Right! Yes. Focusing…is a thing…that I am going to do.”

That would have to be enough. Catra turned to the keypad, and typed out the code – 90184. She held her breath for a moment. But, sure enough, the door slid open with a hiss.

The hallway beyond was metallic, green, and strikingly familiar. The pipes, the vents, the smell of oil, the particular hum of fans and machinery…she recognized everything. She had played in this hallway as a kid, hadn’t she?

_Focus._

She stepped inside, and motioned for the others to follow.

Catra knew how to get to the nearest security station, and which hallways were usually empty. Before long, they were standing outside the locked door. With a nod, Glimmer took Perfuma’s hand, and the two of them vanished. There was a twinkle, a snap of vines, cries of panic, and a pair of thuds.

The door slid open.

“Alright, nerd princess: do your thing. Sparkles, Flower Girl, get changed. We’ll watch the door.”

“Sure,” Glimmer replied as Entrapta hurried into the room. “We’ll just be a sec.”

The door slid shut, leaving Catra and Bow on their own. She turned around and leaned back against the wall. Bow, on the other hand, stood perfectly rigid.

“Uh…what are you doing?” she asked him.

_“Being a Horde trooper,”_ he whispered back.

Catra snorted. “Yeah, nice try. Now slump over and look bore–”

She cut herself off. There were footsteps coming from down the hall.

“Quiet,” she ordered, watching as a shadow came from around the corner. The steps were slow and heavy. _Clang…clang…clang._ Not Shadow Weaver, not Adora. Another Force Captain?

Catra inhaled sharply as an imposing woman turned the corner, wearing a Horde uniform, with a Force Captain’s badge on her chest. Her hair was white, and she had big pincers for arms. It was Bug-Lady! Adora’s partner from the dance.

And the person who had stolen her sword.

Bow let out a little “eep!” as the woman approached. From a distance, she hadn’t looked so big and tall; Catra couldn’t help but recoil a little as she loomed overhead, blotting out the lights of the hallway. At this distance, if she made a move, Catra would have no time to react. All she could do was hope, desperately, that this woman wasn’t on to–

“Hey there!”

Catra blinked. The woman’s voice was cheerful, and kind of…folksy.

“How’s guard duty treatin’ you guys?”

Was this lady _really_ a Force Captain?

“Everything’s great!” Bow declared. “And guarded. Everything is very guarded. Because we…are guards.”

“Aw, man. I know that feeling. That pride in a job well done…ya know, you’re just the kinda guys we need around here!”

She placed her pincers on her hips, beaming. But then, after a moment, she leaned in closer to Bow, and stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“You know, I’m sorry, I just – I know I’ve heard that voice, but for the _life_ of me, I can’t remember where we met!”

Bow froze. The seconds ticked awkwardly away.

Catra took a deep breath.

“You probably just heard this idiot in the mess hall,” she said, elbowing him in the gut. “He gets all fired up about ration bars! Isn’t that right, _Dennis_?”

“Uh…y-yeah! That’s me. Biiig ration bar connoisseur. Named Dennis.”

Scorpia studied him a moment longer. Then, finally, she shrugged and smiled.

“Ya know, I get it – some batches are better than others, right?” She paused. “Anyhoo…you haven’t seen Adora around here, have ya?”

Catra narrowed her eyes. “No. We haven’t. Why?”

“Well, it’s just…she disappeared after our last super-top-secret mission. And, ya know, I was kinda hoping she might come to board game night…”

The woman took a breath, and her smile returned.

“But, hey, she’s gotta be around here somewhere. I’ll just keep on lookin’! You guys take care.”

With that, she stomped off.

Catra waited until the footsteps were completely gone. Then, at last, she let out a long sigh of relief.

“Wheeew. That was scary,” Bow said.

“How did that giant stupid bug know your voice?”

“Oh. Her name’s Scorpia,” he explained. “She was at Salineas. We fought her while…uh…”

She’d been a part of that, too? Catra clenched her fist. Adora really _had_ found a new friend.

Behind them, the door slid open. Two more armored Horde soldiers stepped out: one tall and thin, one short and squat.

“Ugh,” Glimmer complained, “how do they wear these all day?”

“They get suits that fit,” Catra noted, eyeing the princess’s baggy undersuit. “How’s it coming, nerd princess?”

“I have complete access! And I think I’ve found their research database…! Just imagine all the technological–”

“ _No_. You’re going to watch us on the cameras, and wait for our signal. Nothing else. You got that?”

Entrapta whined. “Ngggh. Mission! I’ll just…not touch anything. Definitely.”

Catra considered leaving someone to watch over Entrapta. But, then again, she needed all the firepower she could get; there was a good chance they’d run into Shadow Weaver.

And a small chance they’d run into _She-Ra_.

She shook the thought away, and turned to her team. Three good little armored soldiers, answering to her. She couldn’t help a slight smile…it was almost like being a Force Captain.

“Let’s move.”

The Black Garnet chamber lay in the heart of the Fright Zone. There were no empty side passages here…no way to approach unseen, unless you were willing to spend a few days charting out the winding vent system.

Catra wasn’t. And, frankly, she doubted that her less flexible companions could even make the trip. Hence the disguises.

Of course, Perfuma waved at the first group of soldiers they passed. Glimmer almost forgot to salute Force Captain Grizzlor, and Bow kept saluting _everyone_ , like a day-one trainee.

Maybe the vents weren’t so bad.

But, regardless, they made it. The tall, narrow door loomed ahead of them. She couldn’t help but gaze up at it. It made her feel…small.

There was no time for this. She looked back, to the hallway behind them; a single soldier was walking past, paying them no mind. Catra turned nonchalantly away. She gave the soldier a few seconds, and then looked back – she was gone.

It was time.

Catra shoved everyone into position next to the door. Then she looked around, scanning the ceiling until she found the camera tucked away in the corner. She pointed straight at it, and then pointed at the door.

Nothing.

“Ugggggh. Stupid dork princess…”

She stamped her foot, and then pointed again. She waited.

With a _hiss_ , the door slid open.

She dropped into a combat stance, running through options in her head. If Shadow Weaver was there, she would come investigate the door. They would strike quickly and mercilessly, overwhelming her before she could call upon her magic.

But the seconds ticked away. There was nothing.

Cautiously, Catra stuck her head around the corner. The room was empty, save for the ominous red stone.

She crept forward, checking her corners again and again, until she was absolutely satisfied. Nobody was home. And when she looked forward again, she spotted it: a weapon rack placed against the far wall. It could’ve fit a whole squad’s arsenal, but instead, it was occupied by one single sword.

Her gamble had paid off.

She leaped forward excitedly, dashing past the stone, lunging for the sword –

But a wall of shadows materialized suddenly in front of her, catching her like a net.

No!

Catra tore at them with her claws, freeing herself, only to watch black smoke swallow the entire room. She tried to feel around for her weapon, but just as her hand brushed against the rack, she felt a strange tingle in her chest, and heard a faint crackle.

The smoke flashed crimson as lightning tore through it, stabbing at Catra’s body like a thousand knives – she screamed as she fell, lashing out frantically at nothing. The pain went on and on. She could feel herself going numb, losing her grip on her surroundings.

But, finally, it stopped.

Gradually, the smoke dissipated. She struggled to look up; Bow, Glimmer, and Perfuma were all sprawled across the ground, unmoving. And there was someone else, too: a tall, red, masked figure, trudging weakly into the room, reaching out for the stone. She touched it, and sparks ran up her arms – in moments, she was rejuvenated, and she stood up tall, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Welcome home, Catra.”

The room faded away.

Catra woke up to another stab of pain. Her eyes shot open – her vision was blurry and red. She cried out, but quickly bit her lip to silence it. She knew who had done this to her. And she _refused_ to give Shadow Weaver the satisfaction.

The pain didn’t go away, but eventually it softened, reduced to a dull throbbing. Slowly, her eyes focused, until she could make out the masked figure looming over her. A hand reached out – Catra tried to squirm away, but she found herself tightly restrained. All she could do was shiver as the cold hand touched her cheek.

She could still hear crackling. Still see red. What was happening to her…? It was like a drill digging into her brain. She couldn’t focus on it. She couldn’t focus on anything, except the aching in her head.

“What are you doing to her…?”

Adora.

Catra turned to look. The blonde girl was there, behind Shadow Weaver, looking pensive. There was something else beyond her, something other than the towering Black Garnet. Three sets of sinister-looking restraints. Bow, Glimmer, and Perfuma, stripped of their helmets, still unconscious.

“I’m curing our dear Catra of all those cruel, vengeful thoughts that were planted in her head.”

On cue, there was another jolt of agony. This time, Catra couldn’t help but scream.

“You’re hurting her!” Adora protested.

“I’m afraid the process can be quite unpleasant. Removing such _powerful_ mind control is no easy feat. But rest assured: when it is finished, you will have your Catra back.”

Catra glared up at the sorceress. “So that’s what you’re…telling her?” she asked, every word a struggle. “You’re… _fixing_ me?”

“Well. As much as anyone can.”

“We both know…there’s nothing you can do…that’ll make me stay. So…why don’t you tell her…what you’re _really_ doing?”

“You are mistaken,” Shadow Weaver replied, smugness creeping into her voice. “When I’m finished, you will stay gladly. Your childish disobedience will be wiped away.”

Another stab; this time, Catra was ready for it, and she managed to keep herself to just a grunt. But when she tried to answer, she found herself at a loss for words. What had she been saying…? Everything was a blur now, except Shadow Weaver’s eyes, and the awful red magic.

“What was…what was I…?”

She heard someone inhaling sharply. Then a voice – Adora’s.

“You’re wiping her memories…?!”

Shadow Weaver narrowed her eyes. It was a moment before she replied.

“I am simply returning Catra to–”

“How much are you erasing?!”

More pain. Catra cried out.

Quick footsteps. Beside Shadow Weaver, a face came into view, fair-skinned and blonde-haired. It was Adora – her best friend.

“A-Adora…what…w-what’s happening…?!”

Adora’s eyes widened. A tear ran down her cheek.

“Catra…”

“Force Captain,” Shadow Weaver said coolly. “It is time for you to leave.”

“But–”

“That’s an order.”

A moment passed.

“Yes…Shadow Weaver.”

The face vanished. More footsteps. A door slid open, then closed.

Shadow Weaver leaned in, reaching for Catra, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. There was more pain, pain that reached deep into her mind, and seemed to rip something away.

“Adora will come to appreciate my _new_ Catra. She will be obedient. Respectful.”

The sorceress smiled with her eyes.

“Useful.”

The lightning returned, and Catra screamed.

Adora had been so certain of her plan.

Princess Prom would separate Catra from the sword. Adora would talk to her, break through its influence, and persuade her to return. Then, just for good measure, Scorpia would confiscate the sword, so it couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.

But if that didn’t work, she had a simple fallback plan: lure Catra home with the sword, and then detain her. They’d have plenty of time to talk, and sooner or later, she would get through.

Everything would go back to normal.

But Shadow Weaver had other plans.

Maybe the sorceress was still afraid of She-Ra. Maybe this was payback for all those times Catra had disrespected her. Or maybe Shadow Weaver had _always_ been like this, and Adora had been too blind to see it.

The details didn’t matter – not anymore. Her friend was being _erased_ , and it was her fault.

She had to get Catra out of there. There would be consequences, certainly. But that didn’t matter – she had to fix this, no matter the cost.

How, though? She couldn’t do anything while Shadow Weaver was in the room. And what could possibly be important enough to lure the sorceress away?

Maybe a rogue princess.

At the Prom, Catra had said four names: Bow, Glimmer, Perfuma…and one more, still unaccounted for. According to her dossier, she some kind of tech genius. If you were trying to sneak in, she was the perfect person to hack into the Fright Zone’s security systems.

Adora set off at a sprint, winding her way to the nearest security room. She knew the path well. She had spent half her life running around these corridors, chasing after Catra, getting into trouble. She wasn’t afraid to do it again. Not with her friend at stake.

And they _were_ still friends. Even after all that happened, after all those things Catra had said and done, Adora would not give up on her.

It was about time Shadow Weaver understood that.

Adora got to the security room, and typed her passcode into the panel. If they had changed the codes…but, no, to her relief, the door slid open, and she stepped inside. There was a wall of monitors, with a pair of chairs in front. One of them was empty, but the other was occupied by a woman with massive purple hair, and oil-stained overalls. It was her. It had to be her.

She spun her chair around, and looked at Adora for a moment.

“Are you a princess?” she asked loudly.

“What? _Princess_?”

She caught herself.

“I mean…uh…y-yeah, you got me! I’m a princess. That is for sure…a thing that I am. Uh, how did you…?”

“I saw you at the dance,” Entrapta replied nonchalantly, spinning back to face the monitors. “Did you come to help Catra, too?”

“Yes,” Adora replied firmly. “She’s been captured – by Shadow Weaver.”

“Oh. That’s bad, right?”

“Yes,” Adora repeated. “ _Very_ bad. I think I can get her out…but I need your help.”

“Do you need me to watch more cameras, or open some doors…?”

“No. I’m sorry, but I need a _lot_ more than that. I need you to hack a whole _army_ of bots.”

Entrapta didn’t reply.

Adora rubbed her arm. “Look, I know it’s a tall order. But I think this is the only–”

The princess spun around wildly, eyes wide, grinning like a lunatic.

“Finally!”

How long had it been? Catra wasn’t sure. Her memories, even from just seconds ago, were distant and blurred. The only thing that made any sense, held any shape, was the present: Shadow Weaver, standing over her, performing her agonizing rite.

It was something to do with memory. That was why Catra was so confused. Or…maybe not? Maybe that was a different time. Maybe this time, Shadow Weaver was trying to kill her outright.

Did it even matter?

The door slid open. There were quick, heavy footsteps.

“Shadow Weaver!”

That voice – Catra recognized it. It was a Force Captain, the one who looked kind of like an octopus. What was her name…?

“Were my instructions unclear, Force Captain?” Shadow Weaver asked calmly.

“F-forgive me, Shadow Weaver, but…a whole company of bots has gone rogue! They’re attacking the forges! If we don’t stop them quickly…”

The sorceress sighed. She pulled her hand away, and the red glow vanished, taking the noise with it. Everything went quiet and dark; Catra gasped for breath as her tormentor turned, and floated towards the door.

“If you are too _incompetent_ to manage this situation, then you will guard the prisoners in my stead.”

“Y-Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

As she disappeared, Catra’s thoughts began to reorganize. She had come here for something…something important. But she couldn’t remember what it was. Shadow Weaver had taken the memory from her.

She turned her head, and spotted the others along the wall – the tall girl, the short girl, the boy. She felt a flicker of recognition. Of purpose, and…regret.

She had led them here, hadn’t she?

Catra closed her eyes, and struggled to work through the fog. She remembered, vaguely, a dance. A shadowy figure. A massive gate. A field of flowers. A senile old woman. A furious queen. And…something else. Some part of her that was missing. The key to everything.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a crackling sound, one that made her hair stand on end. Her eyes shot open, but there was no sign of that horrible red glow – instead, there was a flashing green coming from the other side of the room. It vanished a moment later, and Catra watched as the Force Captain guarding her slumped to the ground.

Behind her was a skinny blonde girl, with a stun gun in her trembling hands.

“A…dora?”

“Catra!”

Adora rushed over, quickly unfastening the restraints. She pulled Catra to her feet; but the world was spinning, and her stomach was heaving. She slumped back against the bed she’d been strapped to, clutching her head – only to jump as a pair of arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tight.

“Oh, Catra! I thought you were…I thought I’d never…”

The hug was warm, familiar, comforting…and yet, at the same time, it wasn’t. Something about Adora’s voice was making her tense up. What could make her feel this way about her best friend…? What had she forgotten?

Her eyes scanned the room. The unconscious figures along the wall…the towering red gemstone at the center of the room…and, along the far wall, a weapon rack with a single sword on it. It had a wide blade and a golden hilt, inset with a strange blue stone.

It was important. She didn’t know how or why, but it was.

Adora let go, her smile fading quickly. “Listen, we don’t have much time. You, uh…you need to get out of here.”

With difficulty, Catra pushed past her, stumbling forward, keeping her distance from the huge gemstone. The sword was calling to her, tugging at her mind in a way that should have been terrifying, but for some reason, wasn’t. It felt just as familiar as Adora’s touch. It was the part of her she was missing…the part that Shadow Weaver had tried to take away.

“Catra, what are you…oh…oh no, no no no – Catra! Stop!”

Adora grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

“Forget about that thing! You need to go, before she comes back!”

The memories were getting stronger. More painful. She saw a gate shatter. She heard a queen plotting to get rid of her. She felt a stun gun in her back. She recoiled. Maybe Adora was right – maybe this pain was too much to bear.

But then she glanced over at the wall. At the people who had followed her. Trusted her. And been captured trying to help her.

They needed her; the part of her that was missing.

Catra yanked her arm away and lunged forward, her hands closing around the hilt of the sword – and as they did, she felt a fiery light in her mind, piercing through the fog, and revealing the words she needed.

“For the honor of Grayskull!”

As her body changed, the memories came flooding back. There was pain…so much pain. But there were other things, too. She remembered winning at ring toss. She remembered saving a family in the woods. She remembered her soft, fluffy bed. She remembered Bow and Glimmer standing up to Shadow Weaver.

And as the light faded, and she towered over a pale-faced Adora…she remembered this, too.

She-Ra.

She turned to the wall. Bow, Glimmer, Perfuma. One after the other, she cut their restraints, and lowered them gently to the ground. Quickly, she looked them over – still breathing, all of them. In fact, they were beginning to stir.

But her attention was drawn by a mechanical click. She turned back to Adora; the Force Captain had drawn her staff.

She-Ra narrowed her eyes.

“Really? You wanna do this now?”

“No, Catra! I _don’t_. But I can’t let you take those prisoners – or that sword.”

She balked. “Then…why did you set me free?!”

“Shadow Weaver was going to erase you!”

“And after that, you’re _still_ on her side?!”

“It’s not about Shadow Weaver! It’s about doing the right thing – bringing peace to Etheria!”

“So, what, you just wanted me to run away? Go into hiding while you won your stupid little war?!”

“Please, Catra! If we have the princess of Bright Moon, we can force the queen to surrender! Nobody else has to get hurt!”

Catra tightened her grip on the sword. “You planned this all out, didn’t you? Right from the start. You just wanted to get rid of She-Ra.”

“You think I _wanted_ Shadow Weaver to–?! Catra, I _wanted_ you to come home with me! I _wanted_ things to be normal again!”

But she didn’t _care_ that the sorceress had tried to erase Catra. Even when setting Catra free, Adora had found a way to do it without getting on Shadow Weaver’s bad side. She had saved Catra only when it was convenient.

At the end of the day, Shadow Weaver came first.

Next time, there might not be a convenient option. Next time, Shadow Weaver might get to finish what she’d started. Another mind-wipe, perhaps. Or something worse. Maybe she’d find a way to make that paralysis _permanent_. Maybe Catra would spend the rest of her life strung up on the wall, unable to scream, unable to even look away from the Black Garnet…!

The Garnet. Catra spun to face it. It was glowing with the same red energy that Shadow Weaver wielded so cruelly. It was the source of her power. The thing that made her so dangerous.

Her weakness.

Catra lifted the sword above her head.

“Catra…? Catra, what are you doing?!”

She brought the sword down with all She-Ra’s might. There was a loud _crack!_

“You have _no idea_ what’ll happen!” Adora protested.

Catra swung the sword again. _Crack!_ She could see the damage now, a scar on the side of the stone. She grinned. It was working.

“What if it blows us all up?!” Adora shouted.

“I!”

_Crack!_ The scar was deeper.

“Don’t!”

_Crack!_ Now the whole side of the Garnet was covered in cracks.

“CARE!”

Her last strike cleaved all the way through. There was a flash of white-hot light, and a deafening screech.

Then there was nothing.

It took Catra a long while to get her bearings.

She wasn’t She-Ra anymore. She _was_ still in the Garnet chamber…but it was pitch black, so that she could barely see. The glowing stone was gone, shattered into a thousand dark pieces, scattered across the floor.

And everything was silent.

Her hair stood on end. There was no hum of machinery. No whirring of fans. No air coming through vents.

Nothing.

Quickly, she grabbed her sword and found her teammates, yanking them to their feet.

“Catra?” Glimmer asked, her voice shaky. “What…what happened?”

Catra ignored that. Instead, she grabbed them, one by one, and shoved them out the open door. The hallway beyond was lit, barely, by a faint flickering from up ahead.

_Click._

Catra whirled around. Behind her was Adora, holding a stun gun. It was dead.

Their eyes met.

Then Catra broke into a sprint. She ran past blackened, smoking panels. Past broken, sparking machines. Past Horde soldiers, fumbling with their silenced helmets and useless weapons.

Everything had shut down.

When they got close to the security room, they found Entrapta struggling to pull herself out of a vent. She looked up at them, her eyes wide.

“You guys! There’s been some kind of electromagnetic pulse!”

Catra grabbed her by her overalls, and yanked her to her feet. “Less nerding, more running!”

A few more turns, and they hit the massive exterior door. Catra skidded to a halt, and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. The panel was dead – of course it was. She turned around, looking at Glimmer.

“Sparkles?”

She shook her head quickly. “I don’t have enough magic for all of us!”

Catra groaned. If she had done all of this, just to be trapped in here by a _broken door_ …!

“Let me try,” Perfuma offered. She stepped forward, and raised her hands; for a moment, nothing happened. But then the door began to shriek and groan, until finally, thick vines forced their way inside, pulling the two halves apart and letting in the soft light of the outside.

Catra led the way, breathing a sigh of relief as she felt the warm night air on her skin. Only a few patrols stood between them and safety.

But even out here, something felt off. She looked around. Above them, the Horde’s jagged, mechanical towers loomed…but they were all dark. No lights.

The whole Fright Zone was blacked out.

Catra stared, wondering what, exactly, she had done.

Adora waded carefully through the sea of ruined bots. Some of them had been caved in by melee weapons or explosions…a few of them showed little outward damage, and had simply shut down, like everything else. But most of them had been ripped violently apart, as if by some terrifying, inhuman beast.

There were a few troopers huddled along the walls, tending to their wounds. But there was no sign of their leader. Not until Adora’s boot brushed against a limp figure.

She crouched down, and pulled aside some of the debris – it was Shadow Weaver! Was she…?!

“Adora…?” she croaked.

“Uh, j-just…just hold still,” Adora said, scanning the sorceress for signs of injury. There were no cuts in her dress, and there was no blood on the floor. So why did she look and sound so weak…?

“The Garnet,” Shadow Weaver muttered. “Is…the Garnet…?”

No. Shadow Weaver _needed_ it, didn’t she? And now…

Adora blinked away tears. “It…it’s gone.”

“Catra…?”

Adora nodded.

“That… _retch_ …I should have…should have…”

Shadow Weaver trailed off. Adora’s eyes widened. She grabbed the woman’s wrist – there was a steady pulse, and her breathing was slow, but even. She probably wasn’t in immediate danger.

Probably.

It was Adora’s fault.

No, of _course_ she couldn’t have left Catra on that table. She could never have let Shadow Weaver destroy Catra. But now, she might’ve allowed the reverse.

Shadow Weaver might not be perfect. She might have done some bad things. But this was still the woman who had raised her, the only other family she had! And now, she was paying the price for Adora’s failure.

No – the entire Fright Zone was.

Maybe even all of Etheria.

Adora made a promise to herself: never again would she let her guard down around Catra. Never again would she allow her friend to hurt people.

Never again.


	10. Blackout

The blowtorch flickered, casting the hallway in bright white light for a split-second, then leaving only the dim red light of an emergency flare. Adora couldn’t watch too closely; she knew it was bad for her eyes. But it was hard not to sneak a glance every now and then. She had to know how close they were.

“You sure about this, Adora?” Lonnie asked, her voice slightly muffled by the welding mask.

“I’m sure,” Adora answered.

Kyle cleared his throat nervously. “Y-you know, I heard about some cadets who tried to break into Hordak’s room. They got sent to _Beast Island!_ ”

Sure they did.

“Look,” Adora said. “If he’s upset, I’ll take the hit – not you guys.”

More likely, he’d be thankful. There was no manual override for his door; he had been trapped in there for an hour.

Another minute passed, the cadets working in silence. Then, finally, the blowtorch cut out. Lonnie turned and flipped up her mask. She looked tired.

“That should do it. Just…be careful in there. Okay?”

She knew Lord Hordak could be intimidating, but still, their fear was misplaced. He would know what to do! He would take charge of the situation, and start fixing things…he would figure out what went wrong.

He would figure out how Catra had escaped.

Adora froze. She had been so busy trying to fix things – taking Shadow Weaver to Medical, finding her old squad, cutting through the door – that she had almost forgotten. This was her fault: all of it. And for that, she had every reason to be afraid.

But she had her duty just the same.

So she walked over to the door, and shoved herself against the section that had been cut out. It let out a nasty scraping sound, metal sliding against metal. Then it toppled backwards, hitting the floor with a _clang_.

Adora stepped through the hole, avoiding the edge, still red-hot. Here she was: Lord Hordak’s sanctum. In the weak light of her flare, all the machinery that lined the walls seemed to blend together into a pair of looming, eldritch beasts…she forced her gaze downward and hurried past.

She stepped out into the open area that surrounded the elevated throne. There was no sign of anyone.

“Lord Hordak?” she called out.

No reply. What if something had happened to him? That would be her fault, too.

She held her flare up, checking all the shadows. Nothing. If he was here, he had to be on the second floor, behind the throne. Adora climbed, calling out a second time: “Lord Hordak?”

She reached the top, and stepped past the throne itself, into the strange, dark room beyond. It was bigger than she’d realized; the light of her flare didn’t reach the walls. And it was even stranger, too. She walked past huge glass tubes, big enough to fit a person. Maybe there _were_ people in there – it was impossible to tell through the opaque liquid. What were they for…?

There was a rustling from up ahead. Adora stopped, scanning carefully, hand on her staff. There: a bench, with a figure sitting in front, slumped over it. Was it Lord Hordak? No…he was broad-shouldered and muscular; this figure was slight, almost sickly. Adora drew her weapon.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The head turned. Adora saw narrow, glowing red eyes, and familiar bat-like features; her eyes widened.

“Lord Hordak…?”

“Force Captain,” he murmured.

As Adora stared, she noticed the pieces of armor strewn across the floor. Metal plates, synthetic muscles…some of them were cut open, or torn apart. He had been trapped inside his armor, and forced to claw his way out.

“Decades of work…gone. In an instant.”

Adora winced. “I, I know, things are bad, but…but we can fix this! We’re not–”

“You primitives cannot _begin_ to understand what I’ve lost. What this wretched world has _taken_ from me.”

He was bitter and demoralized. Okay. She could hardly blame him. But she still needed him – the entire Horde did.

“Please, Lord Hordak. We just…we need orders. What do we do?”

“You want orders, _Force Captain_? Very well. I order you to _burn_ this planet, and every miserable thing living on it.”

Adora stared.

Hordak turned away. “Leave me.”

She hesitated.

“NOW!”

She turned, slowly, and trudged away in silence.

When their carriage first entered the Whispering Woods, Catra climbed up on top, surveying the trees with a suspicious glare. Oh, sure, nothing bad had happened on their way to the Fright Zone. But that was no reason to get cozy. And besides, she needed a little time to think. To plan. To figure out her next move.

By the time she swung back down into the carriage, landing quietly and gracefully on her seat, she had things pretty much figured out. And her plan was good…very good. If all went well, she could win the war _today_. She just needed a couple critical pieces to fall into place.

“Hrrrm…”

It was Entrapta’s voice. She glanced over, past where Bow and Perfuma were sleeping, and found the princess dismantling Bow’s tracker pad, spreading bits of it across her lap. Catra shrugged to herself – there was no point in stopping her. The tracker pad was fried, anyway. Just like Entrapta’s recording device, and all the electronics on their stolen armor.

Just like every weapon in the Fright Zone.

Snap. Snap.

Catra turned. Sparkles was staring out the window of the carriage, snapping her fingers; each time, a shower of pink sparks appeared, falling to the floor and dissipating. Snap. Snap. Snap.

“Hey, cut it out,” Catra ordered.

The princess wheeled around, startled. “O-oh! Catra. Sorry. I was just…um…I dunno. Something just feels… _weird_.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. I’ve been feeling it, um, ever since…”

The princess lowered her gaze, looking suddenly anxious.

“…you know, since we…got out of the Fright Zone.”

So. Glimmer didn’t approve of what she’d done. Catra had hoped she might understand…but that was probably foolish. At the end of the day, the girl was a princess.

“Mom always said we need the runestones. She said…they keep Etheria balanced.”

Catra scoffed. ‘Balanced’? What did that even mean?

“I mean, I’m _really_ glad you saved us. Thanks. But, I dunno – that huge blackout was pretty scary…and now my powers are getting stronger…?”

“Wait. Stronger?”

“Yeah.” She snapped again; the sparks lit up the whole carriage.

Catra chuckled. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“W-well, what if it means _my_ runestone is messed up, too…? What if I can’t control my powers anymore…?”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Sparkles, I made your powers stronger, _and_ I shut down every machine in the Fright Zone. You should be thanking me.”

“But we don’t know–”

“Yeah, sure, we don’t know everything! But we’re fighting a war, and – newsflash! Our side’s been losing. We don’t have the luxury of playing things safe.”

Glimmer was quiet for a moment. “Did…did you know all of this was gonna happen?”

“Well, no. Not exactly.”

“Then…why did you break it?”

Catra blinked. Did she really need to ask?

Actually, no – Glimmer had missed Shadow Weaver’s gloating. She didn’t know how close the sorceress had come to erasing Catra. If it hadn’t been for the sword…well, Catra might not be Shadow Weaver’s pet, thanks to Adora’s half-hearted rescue. But she would be weak and alone, cowering in some far-off corner of Etheria without even remembering who she was, desperately hoping that Adora might one day make time for her.

But the sword had been there for her. And so, instead, she got to teach Shadow Weaver (and Adora, too) the price of hurting her. The price of throwing her away.

Plus, for once, things were working out! Glimmer’s powers were souped up, the Fright Zone was shut down…her revenge was paying off in spades. Maybe it was fate. A consolation prize for the first eighteen years of her life.

But she still had to cross the finish line. And her biggest obstacle was no longer the Horde.

“We can end this war,” Catra declared. “Today. The Horde’s defenseless – all we need is one big attack.”

“You really think…?”

“But we need Bright Moon’s army…and Queen Angella isn’t exactly gonna be happy with me.” She paused, swallowing a bit of her pride. “Look, we’re friends. Right?”

Glimmer nodded.

“Then, when we talk to the queen…I’ll need your help.”

“Hey…hey, I made a promise. I won’t _ever_ let Mom lock you–”

“That’s not enough. I need you to stick up for my plan.”

The princess went quiet.

Catra narrowed her eyes. “Hmph. So that’s where you draw the line, huh?”

“Catra, I don’t…I mean, I don’t _know_ what we should do! I don’t know if you’re right, or if Mom’s right, or…or what!”

“Aren’t friends supposed to trust each other?”

“I _do_ trust you! But–”

“But not enough to risk your neck. Oh, I get it! I’m _used_ to it.”

Glimmer buried her face in her hands. “Catraaa…”

“If you won’t even stick up for me in a _meeting_ , then maybe I should–”

“Fine!” Glimmer interrupted. “I’ll…I’ll do it, okay? Just…please, Catra. _Please_ tell me you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I know _exactly_ what I’m doing.”

Hurting Shadow Weaver. Punishing Adora. Succeeding where everyone else had failed.

She was finally going to win.

Adora walked through the dark corridors, past groups of weary, helmetless soldiers huddled around flares. Some argued. Some whispered rumors. But most sat in dejected silence.

In a loss-of-power situation, Horde protocol was clear: call it in, watch for intruders, and await the repair team. But the radios were all dead. The intruders were long gone. And the repair teams were days, maybe _weeks_ away – if they were coming at all.

And so, the Horde was paralyzed.

By the time she reached Medical, her own flare had burned down. She tossed it into a waste bin, then slipped through the open door, into a vast, dark room, lined with beds and monitors. A few of the beds were occupied, tended by gruff-looking medics in white uniforms. Some of them even bothered to salute as she stepped past.

Adora returned the gesture, but her eyes and her thoughts were elsewhere: on the door in the back, to the private room, reserved for high-ranking officers. Normally, that door was kept locked – today, though, it had been forced open.

She jumped as a medic rushed out from it, acknowledging her with a quick glance before setting off at a jog. But as the woman went by, Adora grabbed her by the wrist.

“W-wait! Medic! Is she…will she be…?”

“She’s unconscious, but stable. Without equipment, that’s all I can tell you – I’m going to look for a portable generator.”

“S-sure. Is there anything I can…?”

“Watch her. Make sure she’s breathing. I’ll be twenty, thirty minutes.”

With that, the woman yanked her wrist away, and darted off.

Adora turned back to the doorway. She rubbed her arm. Facing Shadow Weaver again, after causing all of this…it was hard, even like this.

But she had to. She couldn’t let her own weakness do any more harm.

So she stepped through, into the private room. It took her eyes a moment to adjust – this room was bathed in reddish daylight, coming through the window on the far wall. Out there, you could see half the Fright Zone. It was all dark. All dead.

Adora turned to the bed, where Shadow Weaver was lying…though it took her a moment to recognize the woman who had raised her. The mask was gone, revealing sickly gray skin and heavy scars; but also sharp, pretty features, and a look of peace. She didn’t seem so powerful and dangerous anymore. She seemed…more human.

Breathing. Right.

Adora stepped over to the side of the bed, taking a seat. She watched, tapping her foot, holding her own breath – but after a moment, Shadow Weaver’s chest rose, and then fell.

She was still here. Still with Adora.

The girl exhaled, rubbing at her tired eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Shadow Weaver. Oh, the woman was certainly strict, demanding, even scary. But she had a softer side, too – one she saved for Adora.

_Just_ for Adora.

All those years, Adora had given her the benefit of the doubt. She had assumed that the older woman knew what was best, not just for her, but for Catra, too. Every scolding must have been deserved. Every punishment must have been a lesson.

But there was no lesson in trying to wipe Catra’s mind.

“Why?” Adora asked aloud. “Why did you have to…?”

Of course, Shadow Weaver didn’t answer. Whatever had gone wrong between them, Adora could only guess.

She still loved Shadow Weaver. She still had all those memories of praise and affection. But they were tainted now…poisoned. She couldn’t remember them without imagining Catra, sulking and mistreated, her anger festering into a force so powerful that it threatened all of Etheria.

Now it might be too late. Too late for Shadow Weaver. Too late for Catra – the Catra that she remembered, the loyal friend that she had loved more anyone in the world. And too late for Etheria, if She-Ra’s rampage couldn’t be stopped.

If there was a path to fixing things, Adora couldn’t see it. Catra was too angry, too hurt to change course. Shadow Weaver was incapacitated. Hordak was bitter and demoralized, and the princesses were too enamored with the scent of victory – they would never turn against their most powerful weapon.

The only hope was to find someone who could pull the Horde back together. Someone who would stand up to She-Ra. Someone who would protect Etheria and its people, and use all that authority responsibly.

Maybe there was a suitable Force Captain? She ran through them in her head. Grizzlor had no initiative. Octavia was too aggressive. Scorpia was…well…Scorpia. And none of them had the organizational skill that the Horde needed right now. Directing repair efforts across the entire Fright Zone? Only Shadow Weaver knew how to do that.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Adora had always paid attention to Shadow Weaver’s more mundane work. She knew what had to be done – establish communications via messenger, prioritize short-term survival concerns, and then repair the factories, so that replacement electronics could be created.

Maybe she could pass all that info along to someone?

No. Her hair stood on end as she realized the truth. Right now, the person most qualified to lead the Horde…was _her_.

She dwelled on that for a while. A minute or two, at least.

She wasn’t ready, and she didn’t want to claim that kind of authority over her seniors. But it had been hours, and no one else had taken charge; the duty now fell to her. She was the only one who could start correcting Shadow Weaver’s mistakes. Catra’s, too. And, of course, her own.

She had no choice.

Adora reached out and grabbed Shadow Weaver’s hand, squeezing it tight. It was deathly cold, but it was familiar, too. One last bit of normality that she could hang on to.

“Please get better,” she begged. “Please. And, uh…until then…wish me luck.”

The pink light vanished, and Catra pulled her arm away from Glimmer. Ugh, teleporting…it always made her feel a little nauseous, and this time was no exception.

“How do you feel…?” Bow asked, still squeezing the princess’s hand.

“Um…great, actually,” Glimmer replied. “Hang on – I’m gonna get the others.”

She vanished in a puff of sparkles, leaving Bow and Catra alone.

Well, not exactly. Ahead, at the end of the golden bridge, the great hall of Bright Moon was filled with guards, civilians, and soldiers. Many were hurrying about, documents in hand. Others were deep in hushed conversation. Catra scanned the crowd, looking for…there: the tall, slight figure of the queen, listening to a report from her general, with her face cast in shadow. Even so, Catra could make out her anxious frown.

“Looks like they’re already planning an attack,” Catra said, offering Bow a sly grin. “Guess news travels fast.”

“I don’t think so,” he answered quietly, looking up.

Catra followed his gaze. It took her a bit, but eventually, she spotted the little circles that were carefully hidden in the lavender walls and the gold trim of the hall. They were lights – all dead. Just like the Fright Zone. Just how far did the effects reach? Had the whole planet gone dark…?

Well, whatever. This was unexpected, and inconvenient, but it didn’t _really_ matter. Bright Moon could survive without power – the Fright Zone could not.

A twinkle, and another pink flash. Glimmer, Entrapta, and Perfuma appeared, surrounded by a pile of pink flower petals.

“S-sorry again,” Perfuma said sheepishly. “I didn’t think there would be so many…”

“It’s okay,” Glimmer replied. “I’m still getting used to it, too.”

Did that mean Perfuma’s powers were stronger, as well? Good. All the more reason to attack.

“Hey, Sparkles. Remember what we talked about?”

Glimmer avoided her gaze, instead rubbing the back of her neck. “Y-yeah.”

“Good. Then you’re with me – the rest of you, wait here.”

Catra brushed past them, leading Glimmer into the hall. She sidestepped frantic couriers, slipped past stoic guards…they had no reason to stop her, but she took a bit of delight in avoiding them nonetheless. Until finally, she emerged from the crowd, and stepped up to the queen.

Angella’s eyes widened. Her eyes shot past Catra, searching the crowd behind her.

“Glimmer? Glimmer!”

The queen rushed forward, shoving past Catra and scooping her daughter up into a tight hug.

“Mom…!”

Twinkle. Glimmer reappeared next to her mother, pouting.

“Mom, I’m fine! We’re all fine.”

“Oh, Glimmer…I was so worried. Where have – where have you been?! First you missed your curfew, and then…and then all of _this_ happened…” She hesitated. “Please, _please_ don’t tell me you were somehow _involved_ in it…”

Catra interjected. “If you think this place is a mess, you should see the Fright Zone.”

Angella shut her eyes, and let out a long, slow breath. “Catra. What…what did you _do_ …?”

“Let’s just say, the Horde had a secret weapon. I destroyed it. You’re welcome.”

“What _sort_ of ‘secret weapon’?”

“Oh, you know. Big machine. Couldn’t tell you what it did. But I’ll bet we’re a lot better off…without…”

As she spoke, Angella’s eyes widened. Then they narrowed into a glare so deadly, it stopped Catra in her tracks.

A moment passed in silence.

“The Black Garnet,” the queen said quietly.

So much for that.

“You _destroyed_ the Black Garnet! And now you have the _nerve_ to lie to me about it?!”

Catra kept her voice as even as she could. “Oh, is that what it’s called?”

“Why in the _world_ would you–”

“Take away Shadow Weaver’s power? Shut down the Fright Zone? Make our magic stronger? Gee, why would anyone want _that?_ ”

“You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“I–”

“The runestones are not weapons! They preserve the balance of nature on Etheria. With one of them destroyed, we will _all_ suffer.”

“So you lost power. Big deal!”

“The Whispering Woods have already begun to encroach on castle grounds…terrible lightning storms are forming off the coast…and this is only the first day! You have started an ecological _catastrophe_ , one that threatens our entire world!”

“I shut down the Horde! You know – the Horde that’s been terrorizing your kingdom for decades? The Horde that’s been stealing your kids, and turning them into soldiers?! The Horde that killed your _husband?_ ”

The queen’s nostrils flared. “You will _not_ speak of him!”

“How long has it been? Fifteen years? And in all that time, you haven’t even come _close_ to winning this thing – because you’re too timid, and weak, and _soft_. Do you _really_ think this is what he wanted for you? For his _daughter_?”

“Of _course_ not! But Micah…Micah, of all people…knew that victory could not come at any cost. He believed in our principles, and our…our…”

She trailed off, wiping away a tear.

The room had gone quiet.

“Look,” Catra offered. “It’s already done. And now, like it or not, we’ve got a shot at winning the war.”

She glanced over to Glimmer. The princess was tapping her fingers nervously, and she recoiled from Catra’s eyes. But, after a moment, she cleared her throat. “Um…the…the Fright Zone. It’s shut down. All the weapons, all the bots…everything.”

Murmurs went up from the crowd.

“S-so, if we…if we attack…right now…”

Glimmer gulped, struggling to finish her sentence.

The general did it for her: “We win the war.”

The crowd was getting louder.

“No,” Angella insisted. “Absolutely not. Bright Moon will not be a party to this…this _crime_.” She took a deep breath. “Catra. I understand your history with the Horde. I sympathize with it. But you have gone too far. I ask that you stay here, indefinitely…and learn to control not only your powers, but your emotions, as well.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Tempting offer – but I’ve got plans.”

“Then you leave me no choice. Bright Moon hereby withdraws its support from your Princess Alliance.”

“What?” Glimmer exclaimed. “But…but Mom…!”

“I’m sorry, Glimmer. But I cannot tolerate this destructive, unrepentant behavior any longer.”

Honestly, Catra should never have wasted her time with this. Of course the queen was a lost cause! That should’ve been obvious from the start.

But it wasn’t the _queen_ she needed. It was the army.

Catra spun around, facing the crowd. Some of the people out there were armored, or dressed in rough-looking cloaks. They were fighters, and tough-looking ones at that, with wary eyes and battle scars. The kind who might sway their peers.

“You hear that? We’re just one fight away from winning this whole thing…crushing the Horde forever…and your queen won’t do it.”

Oh, they didn’t look happy about that.

“Well, I say: forget her! We’ll march on the Fright Zone ourselves! Heh. Who needs Bright Moon?”

Catra yanked the sword off her back, and held it to the sky.

“We’ve got She-Ra!”

The crowd roared.

Catra lowered the sword, gave it a twirl, and rested it on her shoulder. “Go tell your families, your friends – anyone who can carry a weapon! Today, we march on the Fright Zone!”

As they rushed off, shouting and cheering excitedly, Catra turned back to the queen. She was livid. But there was nothing she could do, was there? Perhaps if she was a strong, ruthless leader, like her enemies…like Catra. But she wasn’t. She was weak. And so, she had lost.

“Glimmer,” the queen said quietly. “You will stay here. With me.”

Catra narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

Glimmer turned to her. “Catra, I…I can’t…Mom said…”

“And when has that ever stopped you?”

“But–”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? A chance to win the war, and help everybody? Including, uh, your _friends?_ I mean…fine, stay here, if you want. But if we all get killed because you were busy listening to your mom…you’re gonna have to live with it.”

Glimmer whimpered.

“Catra.”

Bow’s voice, and his hand on her shoulder. She tore it away, and spun to face him, snarling. He didn’t flinch.

“That’s not how friends talk to each other.”

“Oh, and _you’d_ know all about that, huh? _You_ weren’t there for her at Princess Prom! I was! And, I dunno – I guess I thought she might return the favor. Hmph. Shows what I know.”

The princess’s eyes darted quickly from Catra to her mother.

“Glimmer,” the queen repeated, her eyes pleading. “Glimmer, I _forbid_ you.”

“I…I’m sorry, Mom!”

She vanished into a cloud of pink sparkles.

Silence.

Bow stared at Catra, horrified. She smirked back; Sparkles had finally picked a side.

She spun around, ready to leave – but another hand grabbed her shoulder, and this time, it spun her forcibly around. She looked up, at Angella’s icy glare, shrinking away in spite of herself.

“You _will_ return her to me. Safely. Do you understand?”

Catra hesitated. Then she nodded.

The queen released her, and turned away, burying her head in her hands.

“Weapons and gear, inoperative,” Adora muttered. “Two minor injuries, sustained fighting rogue bots…no casualties.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, and set the note down on her desk – only for a gust of wind to blow it away. She watched it flutter around, past the other desks, the couriers waiting for their next message, the pile of emergency supplies, and then out into the rest of the scrapyard.

This was the roughest outpost she’d ever seen – and yet, absurd as it might seem, a growing portion of the Fright Zone was being commanded from here.

By _her_.

A shiver went up her spine.

“Adora!”

It was Scorpia’s voice. She turned, and found the other Force Captain struggling to slide a door open. There was a screech as her pincers bent the metal.

“Whoops…”

She stepped awkwardly through the broken door, then hurried over to Adora’s desk.

“Whew. Man. I really miss door panels.”

Adora tapped her foot. “Report?”

“Uh, right. Yeah. I found the head of Supply, and, ya know, talked a little sense into them.” She grinned, then paused. “Oh, uh, that’s not a euphemism or anything. They were pretty cool.”

“Yeah. Great. So they’ll supply the mess halls by hand?”

“Yep! Ration bars for everybody.”

Whew. Another crisis averted.

Normally, food was distributed by hover transport. But none of them would start – Adora had checked, just to be sure. And with the radios out, too, nobody had told Supply that the transports were never coming. It was just one more example of how the Fright Zone couldn’t function without its infrastructure.

But somehow, it had to.

“Force Captain!”

It was Octavia. Adora winced as she stomped over.

“I’ve redeployed the sentries as you requested. I doubt they can put up much of a fight against princesses…but at least we’ll know if they’re coming.”

“Uh, great. Th-thanks, Octavia.”

Octavia nodded and gave her a salute. Adora was taken aback – so taken aback, it took her a couple seconds to return the gesture. And as the other Force Captain turned away, Adora’s thoughts returned to the Black Garnet chamber.

She didn’t deserve this.

She didn’t deserve to give orders, or receive salutes. Not after what she’d done. She wanted nothing more than to confess, and to relinquish her command to someone who had earned it.

But she couldn’t. As twisted as it was, the best thing she could do to atone was to keep living this lie. The Horde needed her. Etheria needed her.

_“Etheeeria…”_

Who said that? She glanced right, then left. But no one else paid her any attention – save Scorpia, who cocked her head.

“Uh…Adora?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Somebody said…‘Etheria’.”

“Mmm. Nope. Negative on that one, chief. Did not hear that.”

_“Etheeeria…needs…”_

“There it is again!” Adora exclaimed. It was louder this time. A woman’s voice, from the sound of it, but…messed-up. Layered with static.

Suddenly, the command post vanished – in its place was a garbled image, too broken to decipher, and dizzying to look at. Adora tried to close her eyes, but the image remained, pounding into her head like a jackhammer.

_“Etheeeria…nee-nee-needs…you…”_

She struggled to focus on the shifting lines, to see past the flashes of static. Finally, a silhouette took form – a tower, hidden in the woods.

The image vanished, and a new one replaced it: a black void, with a strange, violet-hued woman, her features badly distorted.

“Etheeeria nee-nee-needs you, Adora. Come to-to the Beeeacon, and all wi-wi-will be made clear.”

“Who are you?!” Adora demanded. “What are you talking about?!”

“You are ou-our ooonly hope of stop…ping Sheee-Ra.”

Her eyes widened.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the image disappeared. She was back in the scrapyard, on her hands and knees, gasping for breath. A pincer was pressing gently against her back.

“Adora!” Scorpia shouted. “Can you hear me?!”

“Uh…y-yeah. Yeah, I think…I think I’m okay.”

She took a moment to collect herself. Then she rose to her feet, waved off an anxious-looking medic, and brushed off her uniform.

She-Ra. Someone else wanted to stop She-Ra.

And that voice…there was something oddly familiar about it. She closed her eyes, and struggled to focus on the memory. She had been in the woods, with Catra, and the sword. Of course – when they first found the sword, that voice had called to her.

For so long, Adora had thought the sword was brainwashing Catra. Forcing her to become She-Ra, and fight the Horde. But it wasn’t.

The sword was trying to _stop_ her.

“Scorpia. There’s something we need – in the Whispering Woods. I think…I think it’ll help against She-Ra.”

“What? Uh…do we need it…now?”

Adora glanced around at the command post. At the helmetless troops, the pile of discarded weapons, the heap of useless bots.

“She’s gonna come back. Soon. And we won’t stand a chance.”

Scorpia winced. “Weeell…you might have a point there. I guess we better get going.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I need you to stay here. Get in touch with the other departments…and keep things under control until I get back. Okay?”

Scorpia’s smile was wide-eyed, almost tearful. “Abso _lute_ ly, boss! You can count on me!”

Adora hoped that was true. But, either way, the facts were simple and inarguable: She-Ra was coming back, and something in the woods might be able to stop her.

A slim chance was better than none.

Catra leapt up into the treetops, taking a moment to relish her freedom of movement – spending so long in Horde armor gave her a whole new appreciation for her usual outfit.

She looked down, surveying her troops as they marched in a long, winding column. They were certainly a ragtag bunch, with no uniforms, and widely varying levels of gear. Some were kitted with breastplates, helmets, and imposing greatswords. Others wore just tunics, and carried simple spears. There were no tanks. Their scouts rode horses instead of hover skiffs. Supplies were carried on horse-drawn wagons.

They were primitive and disorganized.

But Catra had turned those weaknesses into strengths! Her army was virtually immune to the effects of the Black Garnet, giving up only a few tracker pads; and it was ready to march under She-Ra’s banner, even against the orders of its so-called commander.

She’d burned a few bridges to get here. There was no denying that. Queen Angella wasn’t going to forgive her so easily this time, and Bow didn’t seem too happy, either. But, hey, he was still here – even if it was just for Glimmer’s sake. She could see the pair of them at the front of the column, chatting about something.

Catra narrowed her eyes, just for a moment. After everything, did Glimmer _still_ think that Bow was…? But, no – he raised his arms, and the princess turned away with a sullen look. They were arguing. About the plan, no doubt…and about Catra.

She knew what Bow thought of her, but she didn’t care anymore. He was a nobody! No magic powers, no influence, and none of the resolve that they needed to win. Even among all these weak, soft royals, he was the weakest and the softest. She didn’t need his approval.

Still…what was he saying?

She was about to leap over to the next branch, when a low rumble caught her attention. It was quiet, or at least distant. But it was familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it. And it was getting louder.

Her hair stood on end.

She jumped down, landing next to a squad of archers, and drew the sword from her back. “Weapons,” she barked. “Something’s coming.”

Her troops drew their bows, and notched their arrows. The rumbling was getting louder now, coming from the side of the column…no, from both sides. They were surrounded…? She lowered her stance and bared her teeth, scanning the dense woods for any sign of movement. There was nothing. And yet, the sound had grown to a roar, and the ground beneath her feet had begun to shake.

Beetles. It was a group of beetles!

The ground exploded in front of her, chunks of dirt launching into the air as a trio of huge blue beetle monsters crawled out from their tunnels. Behind her, she could hear even more emerging. They reared up and shrieked, one after the other, so loud that it made Catra’s ears ring.

But as the shock faded, she smirked…because this time, she knew exactly what to do.

“For the honor…of Grayskull.”

Nothing happened.

Not again. Not now! The sword was cold in her hand, just like before. Had the Garnet’s destruction fried it, too?! Or, worse, had the sword changed its mind again? Had it picked Adora?!

She was so lost in her own head that she didn’t notice the shadow looming over her – not until an archer grabbed her, and yanked her out of the path of a sharp foreleg.

“Ma’am!” the man shouted. “We need She-Ra!”

_They_ needed She-Ra? No, _Catra_ needed She-Ra. More than anything, more than ever – if she didn’t have She-Ra, then her entire plan was going to fall apart. Everything she’d done, everything she’d sacrificed, it would all be for nothing! So she clutched the sword tight against her chest, _pleading_ for it to help her, to not abandon her…!

“For the honor of Grayskull!”

But nothing happened.

She was on her own.

The nearest beetle approached, readying its sharp foreleg once again. She stared up, dazed, blinking away tears. But instinct took over. As the leg came down, she rolled aside, and scrambled away.

She looked around – her army, her princesses…surely they could handle a few beetles, even without She-Ra!

But it wasn’t just a few beetles. Further ahead, huge furry beasts were charging forward, amidst flashes of pink and the explosions of net arrows. To the column’s rear, creatures with huge horns were knocking aside wagons, and battling against Perfuma’s vines. It was a coordinated attack – as if the Whispering Woods themselves wanted her dead.

Maybe they did. Two of the beetles were bearing down on her now, and a third was turning to face her. Her allies were occupied…She-Ra was gone…and now, there was only one option left.

She turned, and she ran.

_“Adora…”_

More static-y images flashed in front of the Force Captain, showing the path up ahead – then they vanished as quickly as they’d come.

She stumbled forward, catching herself against a tree and clutching her forehead. These visions were getting stronger, more frequent…they were leading her somewhere. To that big tower, presumably. The ‘Beacon’.

What awaited her there? Some way to shut down the sword? Some weapon, even more powerful than She-Ra? Perhaps just information about She-Ra’s weaknesses.

Or, of course, it could be a well-laid trap: a gambit to pull her away from the Fright Zone, and leave it with even less leadership. She didn’t think the rebellion had a way to send her visions, but then again, with magic, anything was possible.

So as she ducked under a curtain of vines, she drew her staff. Just in case.

As she stepped through, she found herself at the edge of a vast clearing, filled with scattered rubble – rubble that bore strange, unfamiliar markings. And on the right side of the clearing, there was a massive stone tower, with a wide, angular base and a narrow top.

The Beacon.

She approached, and the top began to glow a bright, almost blinding blue-white. She had to shield her eyes from it. There was something else glowing, too: a square-shaped section of floor, just in front of the structure, covered in intricate, geometric carvings. They were shaped a bit like a sword.

Adora stepped past, examining the tower. No sign of an entrance. It could be in back, but…why would the entrance be on the side where the trees were? No, it had to be somewhere over here.

She circled back to the mural on the ground, and cleared her throat.

“Okay,” she called out. “I’m here! Do you wanna…open up?”

There was no reply, except for the rustling of leaves.

“Uh…it’s me! Adora.”

Still nothing but the wind. No, actually – there was something else: a low rumbling, coming from the tower. It was opening up! Right? Surely.

No, actually, it wasn’t coming from the tower. It was coming from off to the side; from the woods. She squinted, trying to get a better look. Was there a figure in there…?

She inhaled sharply as Catra burst out from the treeline. She was back in her usual outfit, though still wearing that ponytail from the Prom. She had She-Ra’s sword in hand, but she wasn’t using it – she was running, terrified, from the round, lumbering shapes behind her. It was a trio of giant beetles, just like the one that had started this whole mess two weeks ago.

“Adora?!” Catra exclaimed, slowing down, staring slack-jawed. “Is this – did you do this?!”

The beetles took advantage of her distraction. They didn’t charge straight at her, though – instead, they split up, surrounding her from three sides. She spun around and leveled at the sword at them, backing away; they matched her pace.

Their tense staredown continued until Catra was standing next to Adora. They exchanged another glance. Catra snarled.

“How are you doing this?!” she demanded.

“What,” Adora retorted, “you think I can mind-control beetles?!”

“Oh, so it’s just a _coincidence_ that–”

Both girls jumped as the floor beneath them began to shake. But it wasn’t any of the beetles – it was the mural, falling away, revealing an entrance.

They looked at each other again. Catra was confused, and afraid, and angry – but there was no time for any of that, because the beetles shrieked, and began to close in. Adora grabbed her friend’s hand, and pulled her forward, down the ramp, into the tunnel below.

Behind them, the mural rose back up, plunging them into darkness.

They were sealed in.


	11. Promise

Catra slung the sword quietly across her back, then stood perfectly still, listening closely. There was no pounding of legs up above – so the beetles were still there, waiting at the door. The only sound was Adora’s breathing.

Adora!

The moment Catra’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she lunged at the Force Captain, grabbing her collar and shoving her against the wall.

“What’s going on here?!” she demanded.

Adora’s surprise turned quickly to annoyance. “Really, Catra? You _really_ think I set this up?”

“Ugh. What are you even _doing_ out here? I thought your precious little Horde was scared of the woods.”

She hesitated. “I was, uh…scouting. For stuff. Rebel stuff.”

Well, she never had been much of a liar.

With a groan, she grabbed Catra’s hands and pried them away. “And what are _you_ doing here?” she demanded. “You’ve had plenty of time to get back to Bright Moon by now.”

Catra leaned in close and smirked. “What an interesting question.”

Adora glanced away for a second. Then she met Catra’s gaze again, and her expression hardened. “You were leading an attack. On the Fright Zone.”

“Oh, wow! You’re not as dumb as you look.”

Adora pushed her away and stood up straight, a couple inches taller. “Catra…this has to stop. _You_ have to stop.”

Oh look. Adora was telling her what to do.

“I don’t _have_ to do anything. I’m She-Ra now – remember?”

Adora glanced over Catra’s shoulder, at the hilt of the sword. “Uh-huh. And why was ‘She-Ra’ running from some beetles?”

It hit her like a flood. The woods had attacked them! Her army was scattered, or worse – her plans had fallen apart, the sword had rejected her again, and now Adora was starting to figure all of that out…!

“Catra…?”

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Her hair stood on end. Even after everything, after all this time, did she _still_ need Adora to–

Catra shoved the hand away, and then turned her back to the other girl. She couldn’t deal with Adora right now…with the way Adora made her feel.

They were in a long corridor, and there was light coming through from the end of it. Maybe there would be another exit somewhere. Or, better yet…this was a First Ones ruin, right? Maybe something in here could fix the sword.

It was a slim hope, but it was the best hope she had. Without She-Ra, she was nothing. So she set off in silence down the dark corridor.

But after a moment, she grimaced; a set of footsteps had begun to follow.

Adora followed her friend into a large, open chamber, with polygonal walls and rows of sharp, jagged pillars. The surfaces were all made of some kind of crystal. There were a number of large doorways leading in different directions, each one opening up onto a long tunnel, like the one they’d just come from. Just how big _was_ this place? This room alone had to be nearly as wide as the tower above.

Catra didn’t seem impressed. After just a second of checking her corners, she marched straight up to the pedestal at the center of the room. It reacted to her – a shimmering blue hologram appeared, its shape feminine but a little uncanny. As Adora watched, it flickered and warped, damaged by time…or by the blackout.

“Gr-gr-greetings, administrator. What is your queeeeery?”

The computerized voice froze Catra in her tracks. By the time Adora caught up to her friend, she still hadn’t moved. Her brow was furrowed, and her tail had perked up, the way it did when she was nervous.

“Catra?”

“Shut up! I have to figure out…”

“Multiple anomalies detect-tect-tected,” the hologram declared. “Please verify…administrator status.”

“Look,” Catra explained, “this thing is about go ballistic, unless I figure out how to…”

She paused. Then she drew the sword from her back; Adora tensed up, but Catra’s focus was elsewhere.

“I’m She-Ra,” she declared, pointing at the sword with her free hand. “Your big hero, or whatever. So maybe you could _not_ try to kill me this time…?”

“Please verifyyyyyy administrator st-status.”

For a moment, Catra stared at her sword. Then her ears went flat. All she said was: “Run.”

Then she was off, sprinting towards one of the doors. Adora still didn’t understand the danger, but she knew Catra wasn’t lying – her tail never lied. So she followed, as fast as she could.

From behind, she heard the hologram speak again. “Unable to verifyyyy administrator status. Entering l-lockdown.”

There was a violent groaning sound, coming from the door ahead of them as it struggled to close. Catra made it through no problem, but a moment later, there was loud _clang_ , and the door started falling into place much faster. It would be close. Adora dove under it, feeling the rush of air as the heavy metal fell into place behind her.

Whew.

As she climbed up to her feet, the ground beneath them shuddered, as if the whole facility was enraged. And maybe it was. Because ahead of them, down the pitch black tunnel, were dozens and dozens of glowing red eyes. The door behind them was sealed shut; if there were any other exits, Adora couldn’t see them.

“Uh…C-Catra? If you wanna…do your sword thing…now’s a good time!”

Catra didn’t reply. But as the red eyes came closer, close enough to light up the darkness, Adora was able to make out her silhouette – the sword was slung once again across her back, and she was turning to glare.

“So now you want She-Ra to _save_ you again, huh?! She-Ra’s great when _you_ need her, isn’t she?!”

Her tail was tucked between her legs. She was terrified – panicking. Someone else needed to step up.

So Adora pushed past her and drew her staff, facing down the sea of eyes. Even after everything Catra had done, she still meant the world to her. So if anything wanted to kill Catra, it would have to get through Adora first.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she began to make out the attackers: enormous spiders, lurching and shambling towards them, each movement a tremendous struggle. And the eyes…they were flickering. Just like the hologram.

These were machines, and they were barely working.

Adora took another, cautious step forward.

“Adora?!”

Catra grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back – but she yanked herself free, and prodded the nearest spider with her staff. It let out a static-filled shriek, and tried to strike at her with its pincers, but couldn’t seem to close them all the way.

“They’re broken,” Adora said. “I think… _you_ broke them.”

A moment passed in silence, save for the sputtering of the machines.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Catra declared, her bluster quickly returning. She walked forward and gave the nearest spider a hard kick; it skidded backwards slightly, wailing.

Adora followed her lead, and the two of them pushed their way past the groaning machines, keeping a healthy distance from anything too sharp. She kept her staff at the ready, watching each spider closely as the two of them passed – ready to fight if any of them proved to be in better condition. But, no. They were all fried, just like the Fright Zone.

“Ugh,” Catra complained as they pushed past the last of the spiders. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in here with _you_.”

“Yeah, well…maybe you wouldn’t be, if you hadn’t broken the Black Garnet.”

“Aww, do you miss your bots? Go ahead – tell me all about how the Fright Zone is falling apart. I’ll take notes.”

There was so much spite in her voice, so much hatred, when she talked about the place where they’d grown up.

“It wasn’t _all_ bad,” Adora asked quietly. “Was it?”

For a while, Catra didn’t answer.

“I’m getting out of here,” she finally declared. “Come along, or stay – I don’t care.”

Then she marched forward, into the darkness.

Adora followed.

This place had to serve a purpose, Catra thought. Someone had built it, and considering its size – plus the fact that most of it was underground – it had probably taken them a lot of effort.

So why did every room seem more useless than the last?

The first one, with the hologram, had been a lobby or something…oversized and fancy, but hey, you wanted to impress guests. Fine. But the second room they came to was little more than a big, empty rectangle. And the third? A gigantic pit, with a few small platforms leading along one of the walls, weakly lit by red lights. As if that wasn’t dangerous enough, there were gaps between them, each a few feet wide – you had to jump. Not a problem for her, of course. But the people who built this place probably didn’t move like her.

“Whoa, hoa…!”

She turned. Adora was at the edge of a platform, leaning a little too far forward, waving her arms for balance. After a second, she succeeded in steadying herself, and planted her feet firmly on the platform. She let out a sigh of relief. Then she took a moment to peer over the side.

“Man…did these people wanna kill all their janitors?”

“Just the clumsy ones – you might wanna watch your step.”

“Hey, I’m not clumsy!” She crouched down, and with a grunt, made the final leap over to the doorway. Her landing wasn’t graceful, but she stayed on her feet, at least. “Now, if _Kyle_ was here, he’d go right over the edge.”

“Kyle? Please. He’d still be cowering by the spiders.”

“Ha, yeah…probably.”

They set off down the next tunnel, side-by-side. The light from behind quickly faded, leaving them in near-darkness.

“Ugh, I can’t see anything,” Adora complained. “I wish I’d brought some flares.”

Catra smirked. “Oh yeah, I forgot – you’re clumsy _and_ blind.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. You know, it’s crazy, but I _think_ I just saw a mouse!”

She tensed up.

“You see it up there? Its little mousey head? Just waiting for you to–”

“Ugggh, stop it!” she demanded, elbowing Adora in the gut.

“You stop it!” Adora replied, grinning as she shoved Catra back.

They both laughed.

Then they both grew quiet.

Without another word, Catra set off ahead. She didn’t want to talk to Adora anymore. She didn’t want to be near Adora. It was too confusing, and too dangerous.

If she kept dropping her guard like this, she was going to get burned. Adora would take the sword, or shoot her in the back, or maybe just shove her into one of the pits. Whatever their past might be, it was just that – the past. Now, they were enemies. Adora had made sure of that.

Thaymor. Salineas. Princess Prom. Catra forced herself to relive each betrayal, until her claws were out and her blood was boiling. She wallowed in the pain, letting it eat away at her other thoughts – before long, she’d convinced herself that Adora wasn’t just slipping into old, friendly habits. No. Adora was deceiving her…fooling her into making a mistake. Adora was playing her, and always had been. Adora was the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

And she _certainly_ didn’t care about Adora anymore.

“Catra? Catra, look–”

Suddenly, her foot found nothing but air, and she teetered forward, over the edge of a pit. She tried to scramble backwards, but it was too late – she was slipping, grasping for the edge behind her as she fell, but unable to grab hold of anything–

Until a hand clasped around hers, and she stopped falling.

Catra dangled there for a moment, looking down at the dark void beneath her, then up at Adora. The girl’s blue eyes turned from terror to relief.

“Whew! That was close.”

When Adora reached down to help her up, Catra let it happen. But, really, she just felt numb.

Why was Adora like this? Why did she always have to play the hero? And why did Catra still _need_ her? She was supposed to be tough, strong, and clever. But Adora always beat her, or – worse – had to save her.

And it never made sense. Whenever she convinced herself that Adora was her friend, she got stabbed in the back. But whenever she wrote Adora off as her enemy…something like this happened.

She was sick of guessing. Did Adora care about her or not?!

She was back on her feet now. Adora was smiling. But Catra just turned away, eager to get through this room…eager to get _out_ of here.

And away from Adora.

They crossed the pit cautiously, balancing on a fallen column. Catra was quiet – refusing to even turn around and acknowledge her. Adora could guess what was going through the girl’s head. She felt it too: the _weirdness_ of having to treat your best friend like an enemy.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure that she could. Teasing Catra, playing around with her, watching her back…it felt like waking up from a nightmare, if only for a moment. Adora still had her duty, to the Horde and to the planet. But having Catra in her life again…she wanted that more than anything.

Before long, they reached the next tunnel. They walked through in silence, save for the rhythm of Adora’s boots, and the whisper of Catra’s bare feet.

The tunnel was short, and it quickly opened up onto a…room? It was hard to say: whatever lay ahead of them, it was pitch black. As they marched ahead, further and further into the darkness, Adora strained to listen to Catra’s light footfalls. She could still see, right? Adora stuck as close to them as she dared.

But then, there was a _thud_ from behind. Adora spun, reaching for her staff…and saw nothing behind them anymore. The tunnel was gone. Everything was black. She was barely sure which way was forward.

Catra’s footsteps had stopped, too. That wasn’t good.

“Now what…?” Adora asked.

“Hmph. Why don’t you run ahead – see if there are any pits? I mean, you _love_ being the hero, right?”

This time, Catra didn’t sound so playful.

“Is…this about the pit?” Adora asked cautiously. She knew how touchy her friend could be about stuff like this. About slipping up.

“It’s about a lot of things, Adora. Like, for starters, your little stunt in the Black Garnet chamber.”

That ‘stunt’ had plunging Etheria into chaos. And yet…what choice had she had? “I couldn’t let Shadow Weaver hurt you,” she said quietly.

At that, Catra laughed. Hysterically. For what felt like an eternity.

“Oh man, Adora, that is _rich!_ ”

“Well – I couldn’t!”

“Do you _seriously_ think–”

Catra was interrupted by a mechanical grinding sound. Fifteen feet ahead, a circle of light appeared on the ground, and a narrow rod rose jerkily from its center.

“What the–”

There was a bright red flash from the tip of the rod; Adora jumped as a wide beam scanned Catra from head to toe. Then, when it was done, the rod retracted, and the darkness returned.

A moment passed.

Suddenly, there was light. Green light…familiar light. They were in the Fright Zone! In their old barracks – or rather, a jagged, holographic version of them, with beds and chunks of wall flickering in and out.

But two things were steady. The image of Catra, from before all this craziness; she was sitting on a bed, her back to the wall, terror in her eyes. And the image of Shadow Weaver, glaring at her from across the room.

“If,” Shadow Weaver boomed, “in spite of this, you _continue_ to hold Adora back…I will find a more _permanent_ solution.”

She raised her hand, and Adora watched as the familiar red magic took hold of Catra, holding her perfect still – save for her wide, fearful eyes.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes…Shadow…Weaver…!”

A moment passed. Then Shadow Weaver lowered her hand, and let Catra collapse forward onto the mattress. She vanished, and left the girl alone, gasping for breath.

There was a pause. Silence.

Catra screamed. She tore her claws into the mattress. There were tears in her eyes.

Then she flickered – her headpiece vanished, replaced by a ponytail, as the bed disappeared from under her and she fell onto the ground. It wasn’t just a hologram…?!

“Catra?!”

Adora raced over – but the other girl shoved her away, her eyes still wide, her breathing still ragged.

“What…what was that?!” she demanded.

“I dunno…are you okay?”

No response.

Adora hesitated.

“Did that…really happen?”

“What do you _think_?!”

So that was it. That was why Shadow Weaver hated Catra – because she thought Catra was holding _Adora_ back.

It had always been her fault.

She felt a deep pit in her stomach.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Catra,” she said quietly. “I…I didn’t know.”

But even as the words left her lips, she knew she’d made a mistake. And before she could walk it back, Catra spun to face her, eyes lit up with fury.

“You _didn’t know?!_ ”

A crackle of static. The ground flickered, and turned to grass. The Catra in front of her vanished – replaced by a nervous-looking one, with unkempt hair and torn-up clothes. There was a second figure, but this time, it wasn’t Shadow Weaver. It was a girl in Horde armor, with blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

“I’m not going back,” Catra declared. “Shadow Weaver is…she’s trying to split us up.”

“Come on, she is not!” Adora insisted, placing her hands on her hips. “Is this because she caught you cheating?”

“Adora, she…she threatened to kill me if I didn’t stay away from you.”

“Catra, you’re being dramatic again.”

Just for a second, the girl’s eyes shot wide open. She looked like she’d been stabbed in the back…like she was in agony. It was another moment before anger rose up to cover the pain.

The ground vanished. Adora’s armor went with it – when had she stopped watching, and started reliving the memory…?!

In front of her, Catra’s ponytail reappeared, and the cuts vanished from her outfit. But her eyes? They didn’t change at all. They were just as accusatory as they had been that day…and this time, Adora understood why.

Catra had come to her best friend for help. And Adora had dismissed her, just like always – just like Shadow Weaver had taught her to.

And since then, how had she tried to atone? By shooting Catra in the back. By taking away her sword, and delivering her to her tormentor. At every step, Adora had tried to do the right thing…but she had made things worse, always worse!

Everything Catra had done…Adora had pushed her into it.

“Hraaah!”

Catra’s claws tore into the floor, carving out gash after gash, leaving severed wires in their wake; the wires sparked and fizzled, lighting up the room in harsh white as the air began to flicker – another nightmare was starting to form…!

But, just in time, the holograms sputtered out. The wires went dark. The room was pitch black once again.

Adora breathed slowly. Heavily. That had been terrifying enough for her. But Catra? Forced to relive those awful, painful memories? She wanted desperately to go hug her friend, to make her feel better, to tell her that everything would be okay–

But she couldn’t. Catra’s footsteps were hurrying off into the darkness, and quickly – this time, she didn’t want to be followed.

Adora was left alone.

She allowed herself to cry.

Why?

Why was this place doing this?!

Catra stared vacantly at the wall of the tunnel, rocking back and forth on her knees. Her memories were always right at the edge of her thoughts, always threatening to break in…but now, the levees had broken. She couldn’t shake the sight of Shadow Weaver’s eyes, cold and uncaring, no matter how Catra tried to prove herself – it was never good enough. She couldn’t shake the vision of Adora, hands casually on her hips as Catra allowed herself to be weak and vulnerable, just for one desperate moment, only to be ignored – mocked!

And Adora…the real Adora, the _present_ Adora…got to see it all.

The memories hurt bad enough without her worst enemy spectating them. Getting to see how weak and pathetic she was. Well…not exactly. Those two memories? They were just the tip of the iceberg. There were much worse scenes, much more _pathetic_ ones, rattling around in Catra’s head.

She _had_ to get out of here.

But…how? Behind her was that miserable room, where Adora was still cowering. She wasn’t going that way. Ahead lay some new torment.

And she was going in a circle.

It was obvious: this tunnel, like many of the others, had a side passage to the left, sealed off by a big door – the same kind of door that she’d slipped under when the lockdown began. She wasn’t heading deeper into the facility, or getting closer to its secrets. No, she was just circling the lobby, trudging through rooms that were pointless, dangerous, or far worse.

She turned her gaze to the next room. Dark…featureless…just like the last. If she stepped foot into there, it would probably invade her mind. It would probably show her all those things she tried so hard not to think about.

But she had to go through there. Behind her, there was nothing but empty rooms and sealed doors…ahead, there might be _something_. An emergency exit, or a door to the lobby that had jammed – anything.

She had to go quickly. Before Adora caught up to her.

There might be a trick to this. The holograms seemed to show whatever was on her mind; so what if she cleared her head? What if she thought about nothing in particular, and pushed all those intrusive thoughts aside, just for a brief minute?

She’d never been much good at that.

Catra stood up straight, and took a deep breath. She forced herself to think about the most innocuous thing in the world: ration bars. Nobody could be upset about ration bars. It was hard to feel anything at all about them.

Ration bars. Ration bars.

She stepped forward, into the darkness.

Ration bars. Little mushy rectangles, in gray or brown.

A few more steps. The light behind her receded. So far, so good.

Ration bars. The brown ones tasted like cardboard – the gray ones, like salted cardboard.

She could see it, up ahead. The glow of the exit. She was doing it…! She quickened her pace.

Ration bars. When she was really young, she’d only eaten the brown ones, out of sheer stubbornness. Until–

Lights flashed. Walls flickered to life around her. She’d gotten careless. She dropped quickly to her knees and clawed at the ground – but this time, all she felt was cold metal, and the holograms didn’t react.

Ahead of her, a tiny figure appeared. It was her…not much older than four. She was crouched under a table, or a bench, or something – she couldn’t remember what. It kept changing, before finally disappearing altogether.

It didn’t matter what it was. What mattered was her tightly crossed arms, and the angry pout that stopped short of her eyes. Those weren’t angry; they were sad.

Shuffling.

A new figure appeared, just as small, peeking under the…whatever it was: a gap-toothed Adora. She looked worried.

“You missed dinner…”

“I don’t care!”

“But…aren’t you hungry?”

“No!” she lied.

“Um. Okay.”

Adora crawled over, next to Catra. Then she offered something – it was a ration bar. A gray one that she’d stolen from the mess hall. A sweet, innocent little gesture…one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for Catra.

She couldn’t bear to watch.

Adora cried out in pain. Catra spun around, her eyes shooting wide open as Adora clutched her cheek. There was blood running down it. There was blood on Catra’s claws.

“A-Adora…I…I didn’t mean…”

She reached out, but Adora recoiled in fear. A moment later, the blonde girl was on her feet, sniffling, running away.

Catra stared at her claws. Then at the gray ration bar.

For hours more, she would refuse to eat it. She didn’t _deserve_ to eat it. But eventually, hunger would get the better of her – and, sure enough, it would taste way better than the brown ones.

And she would cry for a long, long time.

The world around her flickered and tore, as the next memory began to play.

Adora didn’t know what to do.

Catra obviously wanted to be alone. It was hard to blame her. But what if there were more nightmares up ahead? Or worse, what if there was real _danger?_ As damaged as the facility was, it still held terrifying surprises – the holograms were proof of that.

And, well…this whole mess had started because she, following her so-called ‘better judgment’, had abandoned Catra in her moment of need. Could she really afford to make that mistake again?

No. There was only one choice.

She felt around in the dark for a while, until finally, she found the exit, and stepped out into the weak glow of an emergency light. Catra wasn’t here…but it was obvious, painfully obvious, which way she had gone.

The room ahead was lit up by a river of broken holograms, snaking from the entrance all the way to the exit.

There was a young Catra, caught in a loop, staring endlessly between a bloody claw and a gray ration bar. The ration bar…Adora struggled to remember that day. It had been so long ago. Did it still bother Catra…?

There was a teenage Catra, clad in sweat-soaked sparring gear, screaming and slamming her fist into a wall as a tear ran down her cheek. When had this happened…? Adora couldn’t remember any training sessions going _this_ badly. But further ahead, she found six more Catras; their age varied, but they were all in the same kind of gear, and they were all screaming, or crying, burying their heads in their hands, or even clawing at their own skin. This was no specific occasion…this had happened _often_. Was it…every time Adora beat her…?

Adora staggered past, struggling to process everything. But at the end of the line, just in front of the exit, there was one final Catra, huddled together with a single young Adora. Their conversation repeated, over and over again:

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Adora shivered.

It had been so long ago – but this one, she remembered clearly. She had promised to always protect Catra. To always stick with her.

And she hadn’t always kept that promise.

What about this time?

She clenched her fist. The Horde, Light Hope, Etheria – she wouldn’t abandon them, but they could wait. Because right now, enemy or not, Catra _desperately_ needed someone. Not the star cadet, always telling her what to do…not the Force Captain, willing to fight if it meant dragging her home.

Right now, Catra needed the friend who kept her promise.

Adora drew the staff from her belt. She pulled the Force Captain’s badge from her jacket.

She didn’t need them.

She threw them aside, and stepped into the next tunnel.

Catra ran as far and as fast as she could, through the winding tunnels and treacherous rooms, refusing to stop, or even slow down, until finally, she came to the end – a dead end, at the edge of a pit.

There was nowhere else to go.

Maybe there was an exit somewhere behind her. Maybe, in her panicked flight, she’d missed the door to freedom. Well, that didn’t matter right now. Because she would _not_ take one step back towards those awful holograms.

She’d been forced to see so much, so fast…there was a hurricane in her head. Adora was such a great friend. Adora was so quick to turn on her. Adora made her feel so warm inside. Adora made her feel so _pathetic_.

Adora, Adora – it was always about Adora! She was always measured against Adora, and she always came up short. In all her life, she’d only stepped out of Adora’s shadow once: these last couple weeks. But, no – even that wasn’t true! After all, it was _Adora’s_ sword. And Catra? She was a _terrible_ She-Ra! She’d led her armies to ruin, sunk her own Princess Alliance, pushed all her allies away…half the time, she couldn’t even turn _into_ She-Ra!

Adora…She-Ra…the wheels began to spin.

Why was Adora waiting for her at the entrance to this place – this First Ones ruin, somehow connected to She-Ra? Why would Adora, loyal Force Captain, go off on some crazy expedition into the woods while the Fright Zone was in chaos? She would need a reason…a very good one.

And there was only one that made sense.

Of _course_ the sword had stopped working for Catra! Its real owner was right there. Watching…waiting…letting this place rip into her mind, as much as Shadow Weaver ever had. It was all worth it, to Adora. The prize was She-Ra – taking her away, and putting Catra back down where she belonged. Making her weak. Keeping her docile when Adora wanted her, and discarding her when Adora didn’t.

_“Catra?”_

The voice echoed through the tunnels.

_“Catra, where are you?”_

She drew the sword, glaring at it. _Last chance,_ she thought. _Work for me…give She-Ra back…or I’ll TAKE her back._

“For the honor of Grayskull,” Catra muttered.

Nothing happened.

She took a long, slow, deep breath. She wiped the tears from her eyes. She stood up, and smoothed out her hair, then her tail. And she worked up her resolve.

_She abandoned you. She shot you in the back. She wants to drag you home to Shadow Weaver. She was always playing you. She doesn’t care about you. She’ll never feel the same way._

By the time Adora rounded the corner…Catra was ready.

The blonde immediately spotted her, and approached slowly, hands up, wearing an expression of cautious relief.

Catra studied her carefully, forcing a smirk.

“Hey, Adora.”

“Catra…I’m _so_ sorry about this place,” she lied. “I don’t know why it’s doing this, but…but I’m here, okay? No weapons, no badge, no war. Just…me.” She stopped an arm’s length away. “I won’t hurt you, or…or leave you. Not this time. I promise.”

Catra shivered. Promise? _Promise?_ She’d seen all those broken holograms, hadn’t she? And…she’d seen all those breakdowns. She’d seen Catra at her most pathetic. And now, she _dared_ to make another _promise?!_ After she’d betrayed Catra so easily, so many times?! Catra would’ve screamed, but…that would only be _more_ pathetic. No. This time – this one, final time – she was going to come out on top.

“Ya know, I’ve been thinking,” she said evenly, slowly circling the Force Captain. “About what you’d be doing out here…how you’d even know where this place is.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore!”

“Really? I’ll bet it matters to the purple lady.”

Adora inhaled slightly, and stood up straighter. Catra narrowed her eyes – her guess had been right. Adora was seeing visions, just like the ones she had seen the first night.

The sword was trying to connect with Adora.

It was looking for a replacement.

“L-look, I…some visions led me here. I thought this place would help us…uh…”

“Stop me?”

Catra completed her circle, just in time to see Adora wince. “I was…I didn’t think you would…”

“Oh, Adora…”

Catra placed a hand on the blonde’s cheek, and smiled.

“It’s my fault.”

She pressed with her claws. Hard.

“I should’ve known.”

She tore downward, and Adora recoiled, clutching her cheek. Catra glanced down at her bloodied claws. This time, she wasn’t a child. This time, she would be strong.

“This whole time,” she exclaimed, almost laughing, “I thought the sword was broken!”

She lunged forward, spinning around Adora and putting her in a chokehold. The girl didn’t struggle. She was too stunned! She must’ve expected Catra to be weak, as usual. But not this time! This time, she was going to _win_.

“But it wasn’t broken. The problem…is _you_.”

She released her grip and shoved Adora towards the edge of the pit; the Force Captain stumbled, falling to her knees right at the precipice. She might have had a chance to scramble away, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she rolled over, staring up at the figure looming above her, terror in her eyes. So _this_ was how it felt to be Shadow Weaver!

“It’s time to _solve_ that problem,” Catra declared, grinning wildly.

“Catra…please…”

Adora was choking on her own words. Starting to cry, too. Catra wasn’t the weak one after all.

“See you, Adora.”

Catra kicked. Hard.

Adora went tumbling backwards, over the edge. She fell.

And then she was gone.

Adora was gone.

Of course, she might have caught herself…right? Catra stepped over to the ledge, staring down – but there was only darkness below.

Adora was gone.

It was her own fault!

She had forced Catra’s hand. If she had stopped trying to drag Catra home, or trying to take She-Ra away…then it would never have come to this. If she’d only _come with her_ at Thaymor–

No. Then Catra would be stuck in her shadow forever – always second-best! Adora was an anchor around her neck; getting rid of her was the smartest thing Catra had ever done. And now, without all this _confusion_ , she would be a fantastic She-Ra! She would pick up all the pieces, and take the Horde down for good. She’d punish all those people who had ever hurt her. Just like…well, just like…

She fell to the floor. She stared, at nothing in particular – just a wall. It didn’t matter. She felt…empty. Alone.

She was finally alone.

  
It was a long while before Catra started to backtrack.

Sure enough, one of the nearby tunnels branched out to an exit door. Well, not a door, exactly. It was built into the ceiling – just like the one they’d…no, the one _she’d_ come in through. And, just like that one, it lit up when she approached, and lowered down to let her through.

The hint of daylight, the smell of moss, the rustling of leaves – she never thought she would be so happy to step into the Whispering Woods! But after her ordeal, she was thrilled to be anyplace above ground.

It took her a minute to remember the troops she’d been leading, and the allies who must have been scattered. All that stuff felt like a lifetime ago…but she’d have to readjust, and quickly. She had a lot of work to do, now that She-Ra was back.

This whole…thing had been a setback, for sure. Her Princess Alliance was as good as finished, and her troops might be too demoralized to try for another assault. Although, then again, perhaps the inspiring, golden figure of a hero might be enough to change that! Or maybe not. Catra would need a plan B.

Seaworthy. There would lots of fighters and pirates in that rough little port town, and they’d all be interested in picking the Fright Zone clean. Some promises of gold and glory might do the trick – and if those didn’t cut it, then a few good threats ought to work. Who would be stupid enough to defy She-Ra?

Traveling by sea wasn’t exactly her first choice…but it would get them around the woods. It would get her army – whichever army she managed to corral – to the Fright Zone. And once they were there, they would hit _hard_. They’d exact vengeance for every insult and crime, for every betrayal and–

Catra’s plotting was interrupted by the sound of a branch snapping. There was someone out there, just beyond the tree line. She dropped down low and stalked closer, sniffing, drawing the sword from her back. If it was one of those beetles, she was going to _rip it in half_.

But instead, a mass of purple hair tumbled to the ground, carrying the nerd princess with it.

“Oh! Catra. There you are.”

Next to her, a platform of vines descended, and Perfuma stepped gingerly off it. “Catra! You’re alright!”

“Hmph. Takes more than some beetles to kill me.”

“Oh, no, they definitely could’ve killed you,” Entrapta noted. “You were smart to run away! We ran, too.”

“I wasn’t _running away!_ I was just…luring them away from you idiots. And hey, look, they’re gone. You’re welcome.”

Perfuma gasped, gullible as ever. “You risked yourself like that…for us…? You truly are a selfless friend!”

That stung.

A lot.

“Let’s just…get back to the Bright Moon,” Catra declared, hoping to kill the conversation. After all, she needed to plan for her next attack. She needed to flesh out all the details.

And not think about what she’d done.

_“Adora.”_

The voice was distant. Muffled.

“Adora.”

Maybe not so distant? She opened her eyes – there was a figure towering above her. Was it…? Had she come back…?

“Catra…?”

The details came in slowly. It was a woman, tall and violet, a little bit translucent. The same holographic woman she’d seen in her distorted vision. And the same voice that had guided her here, to this place.

“My name is Light Hope. We have much to discuss.”


End file.
